A^jia 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


MMmc(^s£c 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2009  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/belleviewstoryofOOdavi 


BELLEYIEW 


A  STORY  OF  THE  SOUTH  FROM 
1860  TO  1865 


BY   j:n'o.   e.   dayis 


NEW  YORK 

JOHN  B.  ALDEN,  PUBLfSEER 

1889 


.         \  ■   ■  .  :  T-  .,  \ 

\ 


Copyright,  1888, 

BY 

JNO.    E.    DAVIS, 


/ 


CONTENTS 


PART  I. 

CHAPTER,  ■  PAGE. 

I.  The  New  School  Teacher,             .           .           .  7 

II,  Belleview,  and  the  Gachet  Family,      -            -  16 

III.  The  School  Trustees,           .           ...  21 

IV,  Colonel  Gachet  Discourses  Politically,            -  41 
V,  In  which  Wyndship  Opens  his  School — Makes  Some 

Acquaintances — and  Accepts  an  Invitation,  54 

VI.  A  Southern  Plantation,              .           .            .  64 

VII.  Paradise  and  the  Serpent,  -            -            -           -  73 

VIII.  Wyndship  is  Bitten,      ...           -  84 

IX,  Wyndship  as  a  Philosopher — Mrs.  Martin  Speaks 

Her  Mind, 96 

X.  Paradise  Again,              .           .           _           _  105 

XI.  Insanity  by  the  Wholesale,           -           -           -  111 

XII.  Young  America  to  the  Rescue,           -           -  118 

XIII.  Elma  Secures  an  Ally — Wyndship  an  Adviser,    -  126 

XIV.  Wyndship  Undertakes  to  Follow  Advice,       -  137 
XV.  "January  as  Bright  as  a  Summer's  Day,"           -  144 

XVI.  "I  was  Mistaken,"— "Falser  than  all  Fancy  Fathoms, "149 

XVII,  Mrs.  Martin  Sees  the  Note,       -           -          -  -  161 

XVIII.  Mrs.  Martin  Makes  a  Discovery,    -           -            -  168 

XIX,  An  Explanation  and  a  Council  of  War,           -  178 

XX,  Leon  Makes  Love — and  so  Does  Carlos,               -  183 

XXI,  Carlos  and  the  Patroiers,           ...  195 

XXII,  Leon  Receives  his  Answer,             -           -           -  204 

XXIII.  The  Frenzy  of  Patriotism,        ...  213 

PART  II. 

I.  Gettysburg — Leon  Makes  a  Prediction,     -           -  230 

II.  "  Come  On,  My  Brave  Virginians— Follow  Me,"  230 

III.  Leon  and  Wyndship,     -           -            -           .  237 

IV.  The  Misery  of  Certainty— Also  of  Uncertainty,  -  250 
V.  Nearing  the  Goal,           -           -       '    -            -  255 

VI.  Johnnie  Hall's  Present  of  Service,             -           -  264 

VII.  Wyndship  Delivers  Leon's  Package,                -  272 

VIII.  Arthur  Rallies  and  Reforms  his  Forces,               -  283 

IX.  Wyndship's  Capture  and  Trial,           -           -  299 

X.  A  Ride  for  Help, 315 

XL  Arthur  Leaves  Nothing  to  Fate,  but  Goes  in  to  Win,  325 

XII.  The  Surrender,              .            .           -           ,  334 


602801 


BELLEVIEW. 


PART    I. 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE     NEW    SCHOOL    TEACHER. 

About  five  o'clock  one  afternoon  in  the  latter  part  of 
August,  1860,  the  usual  small  crowd  had  collected  about 
the  post-office  door  in  the  little  village  of  Somerville, 
Ga.,  awaiting  the  in-coming  mail-hack.  This  crowd  was 
of  the  character  regularly  drawn  together  on  such  an  oc- 
casion, consisting  of  the  full  corps  of  village  idlers,  a 
few  farmers  and  planters  of  the  neighborhood  waiting 
for  their  mail,  and  two  or  three  negro  boys  on  the  same 
errand  for  masters  who  could  not  or  preferred  not  to 
come  themselves.  Seated  on  benches,  boxes,  chairs  and 
the  edges  of  the  gallery,  they  were  engaged  in  disposing 
of  the  surplus  hour  or  two  on,their  hands  in  a  rambling 
and  irregular  conversation  on  those  never-failing  topics, 
the  weather,  the  crops,  politics  and  neighborhood  matters. 

It  was  one  of  the  excessively  hot  days  peculiar  to  Au- 
gust in  a  climate  where  the  summer  continues  to  reign  un- 
til the  last  of  September.  A  cloudless  sky  had  permit- 
ted, or  rather  assisted,  the  heat  of  the  sun  to  penetrate 
through  and  overpower  all  animal  nature  —  its  burning 
rays  being  reflected  by  the  white,  sandy  soil,  with  double 
intensity.  P^nergy  wt.s  nt  a  decided  discount,  and  every- 
thing looked  dull  and  sleepy.  The  human  group  around 
the  post-office  door,  the  horses  hitched  under  the  scatter- 
ing shade  trees,  the  dogs  dozing  beneath  the  benches 
and  floor,  all  looked  incapable  of  the  least  exertion. 
Even  the  irrepressible  fly  buzzed  about  in  a  listless  man- 
ner, as  if  its  mission  of  annoying  the  animate  world  had 
at  last  grown  monotonous,  and  it  was  longing  for  the 


8  THE    NEW    SCHOOL    TEACHER. 

Tvinter's  vacation.  Up  and  down  the  single  street  \i\y 
the  giistenuig  sand,  undistm-bed  by  man  or  beast,  for  the 
village  cows  and  pigs  could  not  mnster  up  physical  cour- 
age and  endurance  sufficiently  to  brave  its  furnace  heat. 
The  foliage  of  the  trees,  even,  hung  listless  and  droop- 
ing, as  if  too  Inzy  to  rustle  with  the  slight  v.'r.iiderng 
breeze.  It  was  just  such  an  afternoon  as  would  in^ice 
the  most  active  of  men  to  await  expectant  events  with 
patient  submission,  if  not  with  dull  indifference  ;  conse- 
quently, our  Somerville  friends,  accustomed  to  their 
present  task,  endured  and  waited  like  philosophers  should. 
Still  there  wns,  seemingly,  one  exception. 

"Phew!  Ain't  this  fearful  hot  weather?"  ejaculated 
the  occupant  of  a  seat  on  a  dry-goods  box,  spasmodic- 
ally fanning  himself  Avith  his  straAv  hat. 

The  truth  of  this  assertion  was  too  evident  to  bear 
contradiction,  and  it  wj;s  received  v>ith  that  silence  which 
should  alw^ays  follow  such  unnecessary  remarks.  Possi- 
bly, his  hearers  wished  secretly  for  the  "Fool  Killer"  to 
wander  around  that  way  —  that  is,  if  that  useful  indi- 
vidual still  retained  sutllcient  energy  for  active  opera- 
tions. One  negro  boy,  overcome  by  the  drowsy  effects 
of  the  heat  and,  probably,  of  a  last  night's  "watermill-. 
yun  raid,"  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  shade  of  a  tree,  while 
a  companion,  a  little  more  lively  inclined,  was  tickling 
his  nose  with  a  pine  straw.  This  is  sometimes  a  very  en- 
tertaining and  mu-th-producing  amusement  to  all  but  the 
victim,  but  to-day  it  had  no  perceptible  effect  on  the  audi- 
ence ;  nor  did  the  manipulator  himself,  apparently, 
derive  enough  enjoyment  to  paj'  for  the  effort,  as  he  soon 
desisted,  and  left  his  colored  brother  to  snore  in  peace. 

Neighborhood  gossip  had  received  all  the  attention  the 
loiterers  seemed  disposed  to  give  it,  the  subject  of  the 
weather  had  been  set  down  upon,  crops  had  grown  mo- 
notonous, and  politics well,  who  cares  to  punch  in 

a  red-hot  furnace  on  a  red-hot  day  ?     Consequently  the 
little  crowd  was  on  the  verge  of  transforming  itself  into      p.p.^ 
a  Quaker  meeting,  when  one  of  its  m.embers  came  to  the      RBC 
rescue.  ..  ^     ,  . 

"  I  reckon  the  new  school  teacher  will  come  on  to-day's      nQy 
stage,"  remarked    a  thin-visaged,  narrow-browed  man, 
occupying  one  end  of  a  bench. 

"  Well,  Slaton,  you  trustees  went  and  employed  a 
Yankee  after  all?"  <c^  - 


BELLEVTEW.  9 

*'Yes,"  responded  the  other.  "Nothing  would  do 
Harley  and  Maj.  Dismukes,  but  we  must  have  a  teacher 
fresh  from  tlie  North,  and  as  they  made  a  majority,  I 
had  to  give  in.  It  seems  mighty  strange  to  me,  that  we 
can't  get  Southern  men  good  enough  to  teach  our  chil- 
dren. If  I  had  my  way,  nobody  north  of  Mason  and 
Dixon  line  should  ever  teach  school  in  old  Georgia  again. 
It's  all  a  notion,  enyhow,  'bout  Yankees  bein'  better 
teachers.     Don't  you  say  so,  Doctor?" 

"  Well — ,  no.  I  believe  our  friends  at  the  North  un- 
derstand, and  succeed  better  in  that  business  than  we  do. 
Our  wa}^  of  life  —  the  influences  under  which  our  young 
men  and  women  are  raised  —  unfits  them  for  such  occupa- 
tions. Besides,  such  weather  as  this  takes  all  the  go- 
ahead  and  energy  out  of  our  people,  and  those  two  quali- 
ties are  very  necessary  to  make  a  good  teacher.  Better 
get  all  the  good  you  can  out  of  the  Yankees  now,  for  if 
I  am  not  mistaken  in  the  signs  of  the  times,  the  oppor- 
tunity won't  last  long." 

*'What  do  you  mean?"  asked  an  elderly  gentleman, 
standing  in  the  door- way. 

"  I  mean  that  if  our  Democratic  leaders  don't  show  more 
judgment  —  more  statesmanship  and  less  wrangling  — 
there  is  stormy  times  in  the  near  future  for  this  country." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  ]Mr.  Slaton,  with  more  animation 
than  any  of  the  speakers  had  hitherto  shown,  "  I  don't 
believe  we  will  ever  have  any  peace,  or  any  prosperity 
either,  until  the  South  secedes  and  sets  up  a  government 
of  her  own.  It  makes  no  difference  who  is  elected,  the 
Abolitionists  of  the  North  will  never  rest  until  they  bring 
on  a  war.  Look  how  they  are  enticing  our  niggers  to 
run  away  every  day,  and  then  refuse  to  give  'em  up,  or 
to  enforce  the  fugitive  slave  law.  Look  liow  they  secretly 
egged  '  Old  John  Brown '  on  to  raisin'  an  insurrection  at 
Harper's  Ferry.  I'm  for  secession,  myself.  If  I've  got 
to  fight  to  keep  my  property,  I  want  to  secede  first,  and 
then  let  'em  bring  on  a  war  if  they  want  to  ;  I'm  not 
afraid  but  what  we  can  whip  the  whole  Yankee  nation." 

"  Better  not  be  too  certain  about  that ;  I,  for  one,  do 
not  care  to  try  it,  either  in  or  out  of  the  L'nion.  The 
two  sections  have  lived  and  prospered  now  seventy-five 
years  together,  and  I  hope  they  will  remain  so." 

".Amen,  to  that,"  responded  the  gentleman  in  the 
door-way. 


10  THE  KEW  SCHOOL  TEACHER. 

"  You  were  born  and  raised  at  the  North,  Squire  Mar- 
tin," retorted  Shiton,  turning  to  the  last  speaker,  "  and 
of  course  feel  different  from  we  native  Southerners." 

''  I  don't  see  why  I  should.  I  have  lived  for  thirt}^ 
years  in  this  State,  have  married  here,  have  all  my  prop- 
erty and  interest  here.  All  my  ties,  associations  and 
sympathies  are  with  the  South,  and  that  ought  to  entitle 
m^e  to  a  clean  bill  of  health.  Don't  you  think  so. 
Doctor?" 

*'  Certainly."  Then  turning  to  a  new-comer  who 
stood  on  the  steps,  wiping  his  face  with  a  red  bandana 
handkerchief,  the  doctor  continued:  ''Mr.  Slaton  here 
tells  me,  Major,  that  you  and  Harley  have  out- voted 
him  again  on  the  school-teacher  question." 

' '  Well — I  believe  Mr.  Slaton  was  not  in  favor  of  em- 
ploying a  Northern  man  ;  but  really,  Mr.  Wyndship  was 
so  highly  recommended  by  Judge  Alston,  that  Mr.  Har- 
ley and  myself  thought  we  ought  not  to  miss  the  oppor- 
tunity of  securing  his  services." 

"  He  is  an  acquaintance  of  the  Judge's,  then?" 

''Yes.  The  Judge  met  him  while  North  last  spring, 
and  thinks  we  will  not  only  find  him  eminently  qualified 
for  the  avocation  of  teaching,  but  in  every  way  a  per- 
fect gentleman." 

"  Alston  ought  to  be  able  to  tell  a  gentleman  when  he 
sees  one." 

"Undoubtedly  —  at  least  we  had  so  high  an  opinion 
of  his  judgment,  that  we  secured  Mr.  AYjmdship's  ad- 
dress, and  wrote  to  him  at  once,  offering  to  employ  him 
for  a  term  of  years,  but  he  declined  to  engage  himself 
longer  than  one  year." 

"Why?" 

"He  wrote,  that  if  pleased  with  the  South  well 
enough  to  settle  here,  he  would  probably  wish  to  com- 
mence the  practice  of  his  profession  after  one  year." 

"  What  is  his  profession?" 

"  The  law." 

*' Yes,"  broke  in  Slaton,  snapping  out  his  words  like 
a  mud-turtle ;  "  I'll  be  bound,  that  in  a  few  years  you'll 
be  sending  him  to  the  Legislature,  and  to  Congress,  just 
as  if  we  didn't  have  vSoutliern  men  smart  enough  to  make 
our  laws.  That  is  the  ruin  of  this  countr}^  having  Yan- 
kees for  our  school-teachers,  for  our  lawyers,  and  for 
our  public  men." 


belleView.  11 

"  Some  of  the  safest  and  staiincliest  Southern  men  we 
have  were  born  at  the  North,"  suggested  the  Doctor, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  and  when  the  time  of  danger  comes,  you'll  see 
how  quick  they  are  going  to  betray  us." 

''  You  are  unreasonable  as  well  as  unjust,  I  fear." 

Slaton's  reply  was  checked  by  Mr.  Martin,  who,  step- 
ping out  on  the  gallery,  remarked  : 

"  There  comes  the  hack.  We  can  soon  judge  the  new 
teacher  by  appearances  for  ourselves,  as  I  see  that  it 
contains  a  passenger." 

A  cloud  of  dust  down  the  street  indicated  the  approach 
of  the  expected  vehicle,  whose  wet  and  fagged-out 
team,  a  little  later,  drew  up  in  front  of  the  post-office. 
The  passenger  it  contained  was  a  young  man  and  a 
stranger. 

"  Is  the  gentleman  of  whom  I  was  speaking  to  you 
in  the  crowd?"  he  inquired  of  the  driver,  in  a  low 
tone. 

*' Yes,  sir — that's  Mr.  Martin  standing  by  the  post." 

"  I  will  get  out  here,  then.  You  can  leave  my  bag- 
gage at  the  hotel." 

On  hearing  his  name  called,  Mr.  Martin  approached 
as  the  stranger  alighted.  The  latter  introduced  himself, 
giving  his  name  as  Wyndship,  and  adding,  that  he  was 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  of  introduction  from  their  mutual 
friend,  Mr.  Iredell,  of  Philadelphia. 

*'  I  am  pleased  to  meet  you,"  responded  the  old  gentle- 
man, cordially.  *'  I  suppose  you  intend  making  our 
little  village  your  home — for  the  next  twelve  months,  at 
least?" 

''Yes.  I  have  accepted  the  offer  of  your  board  of 
school  trustees  for  the  ensuing  term." 

''As  two  of  the  trustees  and  a  few  of  the  patrons  are 
present,  I  will  introduce  them — that  is,  if  you  do  not 
prefer  waiting  until  recovered  from  the  fatigtie  of  your 
journey." 

The  young  man  assenting,  the  ceremony  was  speedily 
■gone  through  with — "Dr.  Hurst,"  "  Maj.  Dismukes," 
"Mr.  Slaton,"  etc.,  accompanied  with  the  usual  hand- 
shaking and  polite  expressions  of  pleasure  ;  all  of  which 
sounded  sincere  and  cordial  enough,  except,  possibly, 
that  of  the  last-named  person.  After  some  general  con- 
versation about  the  heat,  traveling,  etc.,  Mr.  Martin  re- 


12 


THE   NEW   SCHOOL   TEACHER. 


marked  to  the  young  stranger,  that  he  was  doubtless 
tired  from  his  long  trip,  and  would  like  to  rest  and  re- 
fresh himself. 

"  I  was  just  going  to  ask  you  to  point  out  the  hotel, 
or — tavern." 

"  I  will  take  you  up  to  my  house.  I  think  we  can 
make  you  passably  comfortable  there." 

A  look  of  surprise  came  over  the  young  man's  face, 
and  he  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  object,  but  a  sudden 
thought  seemed  to  strike  him.  He  had  heard,  that  in 
some  of  these  out-of-the-way  country  villages  in  the 
South  there  were  no  regular  houses  of  entertainment, 
but  private  citizens  were  sometimes  not  averse  to  earn- 
ing an  honest  penny  by  supplying  travelers  with  the  ac- 
commodations they  would  otherwise  have  to  go  with- 
out. 

"  I  ordered  the  driver  to  leave  my  trunk  at  the  hotel," 
he  ventured,  interrogatively. 

"  Yes  ;  I  will  send  my  boy  down  after  it." 
"  I  am  afraid  I  will  be  putting  you  and  your  family  to 
unnecessary  trouble." 

"  Not  in  the  least — You  will  put  us  to  no  trouble,  and 
if  you  should,  I  dare  say  the  pleasure  of  j^our  society 
will  be  ample  recompense." 

''  But,  Mr.  Martin,  it  is  too  great  an  imposition  on 
your  kindness — especially  by  a  person  who  was  an  utter 
stranger  to  you  a  few  moments  ago." 

*' Pshaw,  that  is  nothing.  I  insist  on  your  coming 
with  me." 

As  they  turned  to  cross  the  street,  their  way  was 
blocked  by  a  private  carriage,  which  had  stopped  in 
front  of  the  post-office. 

''  Good  evening.  Colonel.  How  do  you  do,  Miss 
Elma?"  said  Mr.  Martin,  stopping  to  shake  hands  with 
its  occupants.  "  Back  from  your  visit  looking  more  be- 
witching than  ever,"  he  continued,  to  the  lady.  ''  Well, 
I  am  glad  to  see  that  the  mountains  have  benefited  you 
so  much.  Miss  Owens,  let  me  introduce  my  friend,  Mr. 
Wyndship?     And— Col.  Cachet,  Mr.  AVyudship." 

It  was  a  lovely  face  that  the  stranger's  eyes  rested 
upon,  and  when  the  dark  brown  eyes  turned  to  him  in 
recognition  of  the  introduction,  it  became  very  much 
more  attractive.  They  passed  around  the  rear  of  the 
carriage,  and  when  on  the  other  side,  the  desire  to  catch 


BELLEVIEW.  13 

another  glimpse  of  the  picture  caused  him  to  look  back, 
when  he  met  another  bewildering  g.ize.  The  yonng 
lady's  glance  instantly  fell,  and  a  blush  colored  her  face 
at  being  caught  in  a  seeming  impropriety. 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Martin  I  am  coming  to  see  her  as  soon  as 
I  get  rested,  Mr.  Martin." 

The  voice  was  in  strict  harmony  with  the  face,  and 
sounded  like  delicious  music  in  Wyndship's  ears. 

*'  Col.  Gachet  is  one  of  our  prominent  citizens,"  ex- 
plained Mr.  Martin,  "  and  the  young  lady  is  his  ward. 
She  is  just  getting  home  from  a  visit  to  some  friends  in 
Tennessee." 

After  a  short  walk,  Mr.  Martin  opened  a  yard  gate, 
and  led  his  companion  up  to  a  low  frame  building  of  un- 
pretentious appearance.  This  house  was  built  in  a  style 
that  indicated  land  to  be  a  very  plentiful  article  in  the 
village  of  Somerville — at  least  the  builder  had  contrived 
to  cover  as  much  ground-space  as  was  possible,  consider- 
ing its  size.  In  fact,  a  wide  hall  through  the  centre,  and 
two  wade  "  piazzas,"  one  in  front  and  one  in  the  rear, 
occupied  no  small  part  of  the  foundation.  It  was  situated 
about  seventy-five  yards  back  from  the  road,  or  street, 
with  a  smooth  sanded  walk  leading  from  the  gate  to  the 
steps  of  the  front  piazza.  On  each  side  of  this  walk  the 
grounds  were  laid  off  in  mounds  and  flower-beds,  covered 
wath  profuse,  but  tastefully-arranged  shrubbery,  rose- 
bushes and  plants,  whose  beauty  had  not  been  entirely 
destroyed  by  the  hot,  dry  w'eather.  On  one  side  stood  a 
little  rustic  summer-house,  supporting  a  perfect  wealth 
of  luxuriant  vines,  while  on  the  other — the  south  side — 
an  arbor  of  similar  construction  and  adornment  led  to 
the  side-door  of  a  small,  but  well-built  conservatory, 
showing  that  the  owner  was  not  satisfied  with  spring  and 
summer  flowers  alone.  The  effect  of  it  all  was  pleasing 
to  the  eye,  even  at  this  season  of  the  year,  but  an  appre- 
ciative beholder  would  be  certain  to  wonder  and  conject- 
ure, in  his,  or  her  mind,  about  its  loveliness  in  the 
spring,  when  blazing  and  sparkling  with  innumerable 
clusters  of  nature's  richest  jewels.  Indeed,  this  beauti- 
fully-arranged and  carefully-kept  "  flower-yard,"  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Northern  stranger,  was  so  out  of  proportion 
to  the  appearance  of  the  dwelling,  as  to  immediately  at- 
tract his  attention. 

The  latter  had  once  been  painted  ;  but  time  and  weather 


14  THE   NEW    SCHOOL   TEACItEft. 

had  obliterated  most  of  the  effects  of  this  operation,  and 
both  its  master  and  mistress  thought  more  of  the  vines — 
Yellow  Jasmine,  Honeysuckle,  Woodbine  and  English 
Ivy — that  clambered  over  the  piazzas,  up  the  walls  and 
on  to  the  roof,  than  they  could  possibly  have  done  for 
any  achievement  of  the  house-painter's  art.  His  conve- 
nience would  necessarily  require  their  temporaiy  sacrifice 
at  least,  and  consequently,  the  whiteness  that  originally 
adorned  the  outer  walls,  faded  and  vanished  j^ear  by  year, 
in  order  that  the  softer  tints  of  the  natural  emerald  might 
increase.  "The  vines  will  rot  down  your  house,"  sug- 
gested some  of  th«ir  friends.  "When  they  do,  we  will 
build  another,  for  we  can't  give  up  our  trailing  beauties," 
was  the  invariable  response. 

When  the  two  reached  the  steps,  a  lady  somewhat  past 
the  noon-day  of  life,  who  had  previously  been  hidden  by 
the  foliage,  arose  from  an  easy  chair  to  meet  them. 

"  This  is  my  wife,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  wvjs  the  simple  in- 
troduction. "Mr.  Wyndship  is  our  new  teacher,"  Mr 
Martin  continued  in  explanation,  "and  as  he  was  tired 
from  his  long  trip,  I  have  brought  him  up  to  rest.  But 
where  is  Carlos?" 

"  Here,  sir,"  was  the  answer  from  the  back  porch,  and 
a  bright-looking  mulatto  boy,  about  sixteen  years  old, 
came  foi"v\'ard  through  the  hall. 

"Take  the  hand-cart,  Carlos,  and  run  down  to  the 
tavern  after  the  gentleman's  baggage,  that  was  left  there 
this  evening  by  the  hack." 

Mrs.  Martin's  greeting  was  kind  and  cordial,  and  so 
entirely  free  from  any  affectation  as  to  immediately  place 
the  young  man  entirely  at  ease.  This  effect  was  pro- 
duced, not  so  much  by  the  words  she  uttered,  as  by  the 
bright  eyes  and  kindly  face,  radiant  with  'the  loveliness 
that  only  comes  from  many  j^ears  of  a  good  and  happy 
life,  and  on  which  Time  had  scarcely  dared  to  lay  his  sac- 
rilegious finger. 

After  a  few  commonplace  remarks,  Wyndship  was 
shown  to  a  room  on  the  east  side  of  the  house,  which  he 
was  told  to  consider  as  his  own  until  he  should  determine 
on  his  boarding-place.  One  corner  of  this  room  was  oc- 
cupied by  an  old-fashioned,  high-post  bedstead,  whose 
large,  dow^y,  looking  pillows,  and  snow-white  spread, 
spoke  volumes  of  rest  and  comfort  to  the  tired  traveler. 
In  the  opposite  corner,  by  the  side  of  one  of  the  east 


BET.LEVIEVV.  Id 

windows,  stood  a  plain  walnut  table  on  which  were  ar- 
ranged a  few  books  and  magazines.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  window  was  a  wash-stand,  equipped  with  an  oddly 
shaped  water-pitcher  and  basin,  while  an  old-fashioned 
chest  of  drawers,  and  a  mirror,  occupied  the  remaining 
corner  of  the  room.  A  home-made  fire-screen  hid  the 
fire-place,  and  over  it,  above  the  mantle,  hung  an  oil 
painting  containing  some  impossible  figures  of  cows  and 
horses  (fortunately  nearly  hid  by  the  discolorations  of 
age),  but  which  Mrs.  Martin  religiously  preserved  from 
the  fate  to  which  all  bad  pictures  and  caricatures  on 
nature  should  be  condemned,  because  it  was  a  gift  from 
an  old  school  friend.  This  painting,  with  a  couple  of 
flower  vases  on  the  mantel,  and  one  or  two  wall-pockets 
— of  home  manufacture,  like  the  screen — constituted  the 
only  efforts  at  ornamentation  ;  but  everything  looked 
homelike  and  comfortable,  and  was  scrupulously  clean 
and  tidy.  The  bare  floor,  light-colored  ceiling,  and  pure 
white  window  curtains,  were  perfectly  free  from  any 
stain  or  dirt. 

As  this  young  man  will  occupy  an  important  position 
among  the  characters,  and  in  the  events,  we  shall  en- 
deavor to  describe,  let  us  take  a  brief  glance  at  his  per- 
sonnel and  parts  while  he  is  performing  his  ablutions. 
He  was  nearly  six  feet  tall,  with  an  erect,  well-propor- 
tioned, through  rather  slender  figure.  His  face,  strictly 
speaking,  could  not  be  called  handsome,  still  an  expres- 
sion of  candor  and  intelligence,  of  serious  good  humor 
and  latent  firmness,  and  a  pair  of  deep  blue  eyes  which 
could  become  very  expressive  under  any  excitement, 
made  it,  at  least  pleasant  and  attractive.  It  was  not 
the  face  of  the  typical  Yankee  adventurer,  carrying  its 
masque  of  brass — indeed,  Robert  "VVyndship  did  not 
possess  any  of  the  characteristics  usually  supposed  to  be- 
long to  that  irrepressible  class.  There  was  no  "  cheek" 
in  his  talk,  nor  self-assurance  in  his  manners.  To  the 
contrar}^,  both  exhibited  rather  an  excess  of  sensitive 
modesty  and  self-depreciation  at  times — something  sup- 
loosed  to  be  ver}^  unusual  in  his  class,  and  consequently 
the  more  noticeable  to  the  eye. 

He  was  born  and  raised  in  the  State  of  Pennsylvania. 
His  father,  of  whom  he  had  but  slight  remembrance, 
died  when  he  was  quite  young,  leaving  him  and  a  younger 
sister  to  the  care  of  their  widowed  mother.    He  also  left 


16  BELl.EVIEW,  AND  THE  GACHET  FAMILY. 

her  very  limited  means  of  support,  but  this  did  not  deter 
her  from  undertaking  to  educate  the  two  cliildren.  The 
son,  in  particular,  she  determined  should  have  every  ad- 
vantage, and  as  far  as  it  lay  in  her  power,  be  fully 
equipped  mentally  for  his  battle  with  the  w^orld.  By 
hard  work  and  close  economy  she  succeeded  in  her  pur- 
pose, and  after  exhausting  the  resources  of  the  common 
schools,  she  placed  him  in  the  college  at  Princeton  to 
finish.  Appreciating  her  wisdom,  and  the  sacrifices  she 
was  making  for  his  welfare,  he  applied  himself  diligently 
to  his  studies,  and  graduated  with  high  honors  at  the 
head  of  his  class.  Selecting  law  as  his  profession,  he 
lost  no  time  in  preparing  himself  for  its  duties  ;  but  by 
this  time  his  mother's  means  had  become  so  nearly  ex- 
hausted, that  he  saw,  that  instead  of  waiting  the  slow 
process  of  building  up  a  lucrative  practice,  he  must  for 
the  present  turn  his  attention  to  some  better  paying  em- 
plojmient.  Unwilling  to  leave,  and  unable  to  remove 
her  to  a  newer  country  where  his  talents  w^ere  more  in 
demand,  he  commenced  teaching  in  his  native  State. 
Competition  was  strong  and  salaries  were  low,  and  he 
found  climbing  up  the  hill  of  fortune  slow  and  tedious 
work.  Fortunately,  before  he  became  discouraged  and 
disheartened  by  the  bitter  struggle,  his  sister  married  a 
promising  young  merchant.  This  not  only  relieved  him 
of  part  of  his  burden,  but  of  all,  for  the  brother-in-law 
joined  with  his  wife  in  insisting  that  their  mother  should 
make  their  house  her  home.  Thus  relieved  from  the  ties 
that  bound  him,  Wyndship,  at  the  suggestion  of  his 
friends,  turned  his  footsteps  towards  the  Mecca  of  many 
impecunious  young  Yankees  —  the  Southern  States. 
Accidentally  making  the  acquaintance  of  Judge  Alston, 
that  gentleman's  influence  secured  the  offer  of  the  school 
at  Somerville. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BELLEVIEW,  AND  THE  GACHET  FAMILY. 

The  citizens  of  Somerville  were  very  proud  of  Belle- 
view,  Colonel  Gachet's  homestead.  Situated  about  a  mile 
north  from  the  village,  it  was  approached  from  the  pnl > 
lie  road  thi-ough  a  large  gate  that  opened  into  a  well-kept 


BELLEVIEW.  17 

lawn,  dotted  over  with  oak,  nicKory  and  chestnut  trees. 
A  graveled  drive,  forming  an  irregular  avenue,  led  up  a 
gentle  incline  to  the  neatly  trimmed  hedge  that  separa- 
ted the  lawn  from  the  flower  garden  immediately  sur- 
rounding the  front  and  sides  of  the  house.  A  small 
iron  gate  gave  admission  through  the  hedge  to  a  double 
walk  which  divided  to  meet  again  at  the  front  steps  of 
the  house  —  each  division  making  a  half -moon  detour 
around  an  iron  fountain  in  the  centre,  whose  design  was 
hid  from  sight  by  a  mass  of  ferns  and  creeping  plants. 

If  the  neighbors  were  proud  of  this  flower-garden,  its 
owner  and  his  family  were  doubly  so.  Whatever  addi- 
tion to  its  beauties  time  or  money  could  give,  it  had 
received,  and  no  matter  where  the  "  Colonel"  wandered, 
or  what  business' was  on  his  hands  at  the  time,  no  new 
flower  or  plant  ever  met  his  eye,  that  he  did  not  attempt 
to  secure  a  root  or  cutting  for  Belleview.  Much  larger 
in  extent  than  Mrs.  Martin's,  still  every  foot  of  space 
had  been  utilized  in  some  wa}^ ;  for  a  bed  of  flowering 
plants,  some  ornamental  shrub,  a  leafy  arbor,  or  a  \ine° 
clad  summer-house,  until  a  lover  of  the  beautiful  in  that 
line  could  spend  hours  within  its  confines  and  still  find 
something  new  to  admire. 

When  tired  of  its  luxuriance,  one  had  only  to  pass 
out  through  the  hedge  on  the  northern  side,  and  find 
himself  in  a  grove  whose  adornment  had  been  left  more 
to  nature's  own  devices.  Through  this,  a  path  led  down 
a  hill  to  an  artificial  lake,  or  pond,  where  stood  a  rustic 
boat-house  and  wharf,  and  which  was  large  enough  to 
furnish  a  moderate  amount  of  recreation  at  the  oars. 
This  pond  was  also  well-stocked  with  fish,  and  it,  and 
the  extensive  woodland  beyond,  furnished  the  master 
and  his  friends  with  excellent  sport  in  the  way  of  fish- 
ing and  squirrel-hunting,  during  the  proper  seasons  of 
the  year. 

The  dwelling  was  of  two  stories,  and  built  nearly  in  a 
square,  being  just  the  opposite  of  of  the  jumbled,  "  gin- 
ger-bread" cottage  stj^le  so  much  in  vogue  during  these 
later  days.  A  two-story  piazza  ran  entirely  around  its 
four^sides,  and  on  both  floors,  a  wide  hall  with  folding 
doors  extended  from  the  front  to  the  rear.  The  columns 
and  banisters  of  the  piazzas  and  stairway,  the  painting 
and  interior  decorations,  were  all  free  from  any  attempt 
at   fanciful  ornamentation  —  even  the  costly  old-fash- 


18  BELLEVIEW,    AND   THE    GACHET    FAMILY. 

ionecl  furniture  and  carpets  with  which  it  was  furnished 
were  of  the  plainest  pattern,  and  most  subdued  colors. 
Evidently,  it  was  on  flowers  alone  that  the  family  de- 
pended for  the  gratification  of  whatever  taste,  or  love, 
they  possessed  for  rich  hues  and  brilliant  effects.  Back 
of  the  house  was  a  yard  densely  shaded  with  mulberry 
and  mock  orange  trees,  extending  back  to  another  hedge 
which  separated  the  grounds  of  the  dwelling  proper, 
from  those  of  the  negro  quarter.  Even  to  the  latter  place 
the  owner's  love  for  the  beautiful  had  extended,  as  was 
shown  by  the  two  rows  of  neat  little  cabins  with  a  shady, 
clean-swept  street  between.  Once  a  year  these  cabins 
were  whitewashed  within  and  without,  and  their  white 
walls  glistening  through  the  green  of  the  trees  was  not 
without  its  artistic  effect. 

On  the  afternoon  that  our  story  opens,  a  small  group 
of  three  persons  were  gathered  on  the  front  of  the  pi- 
azza, apparently  in  expectation  of  some  amval.  The 
older  of  the  three,  a  lady  verging  on  to  forty,  was  seated 
in  an  easy  chair  at  the  head  of  the  steps.  Of  slight  fig- 
ure and  fragile  appearance,  the  storms  of  life  had  seem- 
ingly dealt  gently  with  her  past,  as  her  smooth  hair  still 
retained  its  original  color,  and  the  blue  eyes  were  as 
placid,  if  not  as  bright,  as  those  of  the  young  girl  at  her 
feet.  They  were  evidently  mother  and  daughter,  as  the 
latter  had  the  same  golden  hair,  blue  eyes  and  pure 
blonde  complexion.  Her  form,  though  slight,  was  some- 
what taller  and  fuller  than  the  older  lady's,  but  hardly 
enough  to  make  her  full  medium  size.  Her  hair  curled 
in  natural  ringlets  around  the  white  brow,  and  the  blue 
eyes  laughed  and  sparkled  with  merriment  and  happi- 
ness. Just  entering  her  eighteenth  3^ear,  with  all  the 
freshness  of  a  girl,  and  all  the  graceful  sweetness  of 
young  womanhood,  she  presented  as  fair  a  pictm-e  as 
could  be  found  in  a  State  noted  for  its  beautiful  women. 

Their  companion  was  a  rather  good-looking  young 
man  of  twenty-two,  or  three,  with  a  pleasant  face  and 
manner.  The  face  had  an  exceedingly  pleased  expres- 
sion just  now,  as  he  watched  the  slender  fingers  of  the 
girl  arranging  a  small  bouquet  of  ferns  and  grasses,  al- 
though it  must  be  acknowledged  that  he  was  heartily 
envying  the  slanting  sun-rays  as  they  stole  through  the 
vines,  lingered  gently  on  the  golden  curls,  and  softly 
kissed  her  dainty  cheek. 


BELLEVIEW.  1  {) 

'' I  wonder  what  makes  them  so  late?"  said  the  hit- 
ter, ghinciiig  down  the  avenne  ;  ''  Papa  always  gets  home 
from  Milton  before  this." 

*'  Not  always,  my  danghter.  It  has  been  so  warm  to- 
day, that  they  could  not  drive  fast  —  besides,  the  train 
may  have  heen  delayed." 

^'  I  am  so  anxious  to  have  Elma  home  again,  and  to 
hear  her  talk  about  her  experience  in  the  mountains.  I 
know  she  had  a  splendid  time." 

*' Miss  Elma  stopped  at  Marietta  on  her  way  back 
from  Tennessee,  did  she  not?" 

''Yes,  she  promised  May  Thompson  to  visit  her 
this  summer,  and  has  been  spending  the  last  week 
there." 

''  I  wonder  if  your  anxiety  to  see  Miss  Elma  is  not 
prompted  by  a  desire  to  hear  from  some  one  in  Mari- 
etta ?"  queried  the  3^oung  man  in  a  teasing  manner. 

"  I  have  several  friends  there  that  I  will  be  de- 
lighted to  hear  from.  There  is  May  and  Janie  Wright, 
and " 

"And?" 

''Well,  Mr.  Curiosity  — and,  Will  Thompson,"  was 
the  laughing  reply,  glancing  up. 

He  must  have  seen  something  reassuring  in  the 
glance,  for  the  pleased  expression  remained  on  his 
face. 

"  Will  Miss  Elma  return  alone?" 

"Yes.  Why  were  you  not  gallant  enough  to  go  up 
after  her?" 

"  I  did  not  know,  and " 

"  And?"  in  mocking  imitation  of  his  former  query. 

"Father  says  Belle  view  is  the  only  place  I  can  find 
time  to  visit,"  he  whispered,  with  a  look  that  deepened 
the  rose  on  her  cheek. 

"You  are  a  great  stay-at-home  then,"  she  replied, 
trying  to  appear  careless. 

"  How  do  you  like  Milton  as  a  place  of  residence, 
Charley  ?  or  have  you  been  there  long  enough  to  say  ?" 
interrupted  Mrs.  Gachet. 

"  I  think  I  will  like  it  very  much.  I  have  been  there 
but  very  little  as  yet ;  in  fact,  we  do  not  get  possession 
of  our  office  until  next  Monday." 

"And  then  you  will  hang  out  your  —  your  —  What 
do  vou  call  it?"  asked  the  girl,  mischievously. 


20  BELLEVIEV/,    AND    THE    GACHET    FAMILY. 

''  Shingle,"  he  suggested. 

"  That's  it  —  shingle  as  a  full-fledged  lawyer." 

"  Yes.  Won't  you  bring  me  a  '  case'  right  away?  You 
know  the  first  '  case'  is  always  a  great  thing  with  young 
lawyers." 

*'  But  how  can  I  ?  Must  I  go  and  steal  something  and 
employ  you  to  defend  me  ?" 

''  If  we  lived  at  the  North,  I  would  propose  that  you 
jilt  some  one  of  your  lovers  so  that  we  could  get  up  a 
breach  of  promise  suit  against  you." 

*'  Oh  !  but  you  don't  think  that  I  can  have  a  lover  !" 

*'  How  could  I  possibly  think  that?"  he  asked,  with  a 
look  wiiich  caused  her  eyes  to  turn  in  the  direction  of 
the  gate. 

*' There  they  come,"  she  cried,  as  a  carriage  drove 
into  the  avenue.  *'  Now,  Mr.  Charley,  for  a  race  —  I'm 
going  to  beat  you  to  the  gate,"  and  springing  up,  she 
ran  lightly  down  the  steps  and  along  the  walk.  He  did 
not  accept  the  challenge,  however,  but  waited  on  the 
more  sober  steps  of  her  mother. 

The  coachman  touched  up  his  team,  and  came  up  to 
the  hedge  in  the  style  and  with  the  flourish  so  delightful 
-  to  the  Ethiopian  heart.  Miss  Owens  did  not  wait  for 
the  assistance  of  the  gentleman,  but  sprang  out  into 
the  arms  of  her  friend,  giving  and  receiving  a  true  young 
woman's  greeting  —  hugs  and  kisses  —  afterwards  salut- 
ing INIrs.  Gachet  in  a  more  respectful  and  daughterly 
manner,  and  then  shaking  hands  with  the  young  man. 
In  the  meantune  Col.  Gachet  also  climbed  out,  his  dig- 
nified motions  seeming  to  be,  whether  intended  or  not, 
a  silent  rebulie  to  the  effusiveness  of  his  ward  and 
daughter.  Together  they  returned  to  the  house,  the  two 
girls  arm  in  arm  ahead,  while  the  other  two  respectfully 
listened  to  the  Colonel's  relation  of  his  trip  to  Macon, 
and  the  news  he  had  heard  in  the  city. 

"You  can  entertain  yourselves  for  a  while  ;  Elma  is 
mine  for  the  present,"  Miss  Gachet  called  back  on  en- 
tering the  hall,  and  the  girls  huiTied  off  to  their  room. 

"  Have  a  seat  out  here,  Charley,"  said  Col.  Gachet, 
"they  will  be  down  presently." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  expect  I  had  better  go" — (hesitat- 
ingly) "  I  must  go  by  the  office  for  our  mail." 

"  I  saw  the  Doctor  there  as  we  passed  ;  he  has  saved 
you  that  trouble." 


BELLEYTEW.  21 

*'  Toa  will  soon  be  ready,  and  you  must  stay  and  take 
some,"  said  ^Frs.  Gachet,  pleasnnth^ 

Evidently  it  did  not  take  much  insisting  to  keep  Char- 
ley Hurst  at  Belleview,  as  he  occupied  the  proffered  chair 
without  any  further  hesitation. 

While  the  trio  on  the  piazza  are  beguiling  the  time  in 
conversation  on  general  topics,  and  the  couple  up  stairs 
in  confidential  chat  peculiar  to  their  sort,  let  us  turn 
back  for  a  brief  glance  at  their  past,  in  order  to  become 
the  better  acquainted.  Col.  Gachet  was  the  only  son  of 
a  wealthy  South  Carolinian.  When  a  young  man  he 
had  served  as  a  lieutenant  in  a  volunteer  company 
daring  the  Seminole  War,  and  by  that  means  acquired  a 
military  title  —  the  promotion  in  rank  coming  afterwards 
through  the  courtesy  of  his  friends.  While  in  Florida  he 
fell  in  love  with  and  married,  a  beautiful  Spanish  girl, 
who  lived  only  a  few  years.  His  father  also  died  about 
the  same  time  as  his  wife,  and  having  then  no  special 
ties  to  bind  him  to  the  old  home,  he  removed  with  his 
slaves  and  his  three -year-old  son  to  Georgia.  After  a 
few  years  of  widowhood,  he  met  his  second  wife,  the 
daughter  of  a  wealthy  Georgian,  and  speedily  found 
consolation  for  his  late  bereavements  in  the  light  of  her 
gentle  blue  eyes.  There  was  a  striking  difference  be- 
tween the  physical  types  and  mental  characteristics  of 
his  two  wives  which  were  faithfully  reproduced  in  the 
child  that  each,  bore  him.  His  daughter,  Mollie,  as 
we  have  seen,  inherited  her  mother's  blonde  beauty,  and 
with  it  a  sweet,  cheerful  disposition  that  made  her  a 
favorite  with  all,  both  high  and  low,  throughout  the 
neighborhood. 

His  son,  Leon,  who  was  now  away  on  a  visit  to  his 
morher's  relatives  in  Florida,  was  considered  very  hand- 
some, with  the  black  eyes  and  hair,  and  dark  complex- 
ion of  his  Spanish  ancestry.  It  wa«  generally  supposed 
that  he  was  indebted  to  his  mother  also  for  his  quick 
temper  and  haughty,  impetuous  disposition,  but  it  is 
possible  that  some  of  this  temperament  might  be  justly 
charged  up  to  his  father's  account.  At  any  rate,  they 
had  some  traits  in  common,  among  which  was  family 
pride,  although  it  was  more  exaggerated  in  the  son. 
The  same  might  be  truthfully  said  about  the  strong 
prejudices  that  were  common  to  both,  and  a  certain  in- 
ability which  each  possessed  to  see  more  than  one  side 


22  BELLEVIE-\V,    AXT)    THE    GAOTTET    FAMILY. 

of  a  qnestion  at  the  same  time.  The  Gachets  had  never 
l)een  common  people  —  at  least  they  could  trace  their 
Imeage  hack  to  one  who  had  fonght  for  the  Protestant 
faith  by  the  side  of  the  great  C'olign3^  Expatriation 
had  followed  the  collapse  of  the  Huguenot  cause,  but  in 
England  and  in  America  the  family  had  always  remem- 
bered and  sustained  the  high  reputation  their  fore- 
fathers had  won.  Then,  too,  Leon's  mother  was  a  de- 
scendant of  one  of  those  brave  and  enterprising  Span- 
iards who  made  Spain  mistress  of  the  new  Southern 
world. 

There  is  no  particular  harm  in  family  pride  so  long  as 
w^e  do  not  rely  on  it  alone,  and  so  long  as  it  does  not 
cause  us  to  belittle  the  worth  of  others  whose  fathers 
■were  *'  nobodies."  Really,  it  might  be  commendable  so 
far  as  it  prompts  us  to  emulate  the  great  deeds  of  illus- 
trious fore-fathers.  Leon  Gachet  was  still  young,  and 
the  future  alone  could  determine  whether  or  not  his  van- 
ity and  ambition  would  be  satisfied  with  the  contempla- 
tion of  past  greatness,  and  with  the  very  dim  and  un- 
certain reflection  of  ancient  glory ;  but  for  the  present, 
^t  least,  he  uiffloubtedly  regarded  himself  as  being  made 
^If  finer  clay  than  the  masses  around.  This  trait  had 
contributed  greatly  to  make  him  unpopular  at  school, 
for  the  average  boy  of  America  is  imbued  with  a 
supreme  contempt  of  the  past,  and  places  all  his 
faith  in  personality.  It  had  also  injured  him  in  the  es- 
timation of  his  father's  neighbors,  who  possessed  too 
much  honest  self- appreciation  themselves  to  admit  any 
man  as  their  superior  on  account  of  his  grandfather  alone. 
"Bigheaded,"  "stuck  up"  and  like  expressions  were 
frequently  used  to  signify  their  estimation  of  his  charac- 
ter, and  they  were  not  slow  to  believe,  or  quick  to  sup- 
press, rumors  derogatory  to  his  reputation  as  a  steady 
and  moral  young  man.  Consequently  he  was  regarded 
by  many  as  being  somewhat  wild  and  dissipated,  and  was 
suspected  of  occasionally  courting  the  favors  of 
the  fickle  Goddess  of  Fortune  around  the  gaml)ling  ta- 
bled a  suspicion  that  was  partly  supported  by  the  re- 
spectable per  cent,  of  his  father's  inconie  which  he  man- 
aged to  disburse  each  year.  The  Colonel,  however, 
could  see  no  blemish  in  his  handsome,  high-spirited  son. 
In  his  eyes  he  was  as  near  perfection  as  it  was  possible 
for  a  mortal  to  be,  and  he  felt  no  fear  as  to  his  future  j 


BELLEVIEW.  23 

no  fear  but  what  the  honor  and  reputation  of  the  name 
would  be  perfectly  safe  in  his  hands.  To  the  contrary, 
he  looked  forward  with  fond  anticipation  to  the  addi- 
tional laurels  that  Leon  would  twine  around  their  family 
greatness. 

Nor  was  the  latter  without  some  redeeming  qualities. 
His  excessive  pride  had  not  destroyed  all  ambition  for 
personal  distinction,  nor  had  the  influences  of  his  life 
entirely  softened  his  inheritance  of  that  iron  energy 
which  had  predominated  in  the  charact^'  of  his  an- 
cestors. Moreover,  he  had  inherited  their  personal 
courage  to  a  marked  extent ;  was  incapable  of  deceit  or 
sycophancy  in  any  way ;  and  despite  his  Spanish  love 
for  revenge,  could  sometimes  be  magnanimous  to  a  de- 
feated foe.  He  could  love  as  strongly  as  he  could  hate  ; 
his  friendship  once  gained  would  stand  the  severest  test, 
in  fact,  ignored  the  faults  of  the  favored  one  as  long 
as  was  possible  without  violating  his  sense  of 
honor,  and  no  one  had  ever  yet  had  cause  to  doubt  his 
truthfulness.  With  rather  more  than  ordinary  mental 
as  well  as  physical  endowments,  and  a  fair  cultivation 
of  his  talents,  there  was  much  about  him,  jf  understood, 
to  attract  admiration,  and  under  the  right  influences  ha 
would  have  made  a  man  entitled  at  least  to  the  worlc^ 
respects.  To  snm  up,  a  casual  observer  might  admire 
his  appearance  and  manners  as  those  of  a  finished  gen- 
tleman ;  the  great  bulk  of  his  acquaintances  saw  mostly 
his  faults,  while  only  those  who  were  bound  to  him  by 
the  closest  of  ties,  ever  knew  and  appreciated  his  vir- 
tues. 

Unfortunately,  his  father  was  not  the  kind  of  charac- 
ter to  happily  govern  and  train  such  a  son.  He  pos- 
sessed rather  too  many  of  the  same  faults  and  short- 
comings himself :  morever,  love  for  Leon  combined, 
possibly,  with  fear  of  that  ungovernable  temper -which 
the  latter  received  from  his  mother,  and  which  the 
Colonel  had  never  forgotten,  had  loosened  all  parental  re- 
straints, except  such  as  could  be  enforced  by  persur.sion, 
long  before  the  J^oung  man  was  grown.  As  intimated, 
he  possessed  no  little  amount  of  the  same  kind  of  pride 
and  arrogance  as  his  son,  and  was  inclined  to  be  harsh 
and  overbearing  to  tho.se  he  disliked,  but  weakly  indul- 
gent to  those  he  loved.  As  love  for  his  son  was  stronger 
than     any      other      feeling,      it      naturally      followed 


24  BELLE  VIEW,    AND   THE    GACHET    FAMILY. 

that  to  him  he  was  the  most  indulgent.  The  father 
desired  to  be,  and  was,  in  his  own  estimation,  not  only 
broad  and  catholic  in  his  views,  but  also  above  all  con- 
siderations arising  from  the  "accident  of  birth."  No 
one  was  prouder  of  his  Ameiican  citizenship,  or  in  theory, 
held  faster  to  the  Jeffersonian  doctrine  that  "  all  men 
are  born  equal ;"  but  with  it  all,  he  could  never  forget  the 
fact,  that  he  was  a  Gachet.  This,  however,  did  not  pre- 
vent him  from  being  honorable  and  high-minded  in  his 
actions,  or  from  being  a  zealous  devotee  at  the  shrine  of 
justice  —  as  he  saw  it.  His  neighbors  thoroughly  appre- 
ciated this  trait  of  his  character,  and  had  more  than  once 
elected  him  to  important  office  on  the  strength  of  it  alone. 
*'  Col.  Gachet  will  do  what  he  believes  to  be  right,"  they 
said,  "  and  where  his  judgment  is  correct,  no  one  can  be 
safer." 

He  was  charitable  to  a  fault  where  he  thought  charity 
was  deserved ;  and  where  his  prejudices  had  not  been 
first  aroused,  he  was  certain  to  sympathise  with  the 
"  under  dog  in  a  fight."  Passionate  and  querulous  as  a 
master,  he  still  regarded  his  slaves  as  dependents,  and 
closely  watched  his  overseers  for  fear  of  cruelty  or  op- 
•vpression  on  their  part ;  and  in  all  difficulties  between 
them  and  his  negroes,  he  invariably  sided  with  the  latter. 
The  consequences  were,  that  they,  taking  advantage  of 
this,  scarcely  ever  failed  to  drive  away  the  overseer  in  a 
short  time.  So  unsatisfactory  had  this  state  of  affairs 
become,  that  at  the  time  our  story  begins,  he  had  de- 
cided to  eschew  all  hired  stewards  in  the  future,  and  to 
take  charge  of  his  plantation  himself,  assisted  by  a  fa- 
vorite slave  in  the  capacity  of  driver.  His  management 
was  not  nor  never  had  been,  successful,  and  had  "all  his 
wealth  been  invested  in  his  plantation  and  negroes,  he 
never  would  have  been  able  to  make  both  ends  meet. 
Prompted  by  patriotism  and  State  pride,  he  had  invested 
some  of  his  surplus  capital  in  public  enterprises  that, 
strange  to  say,  had  proven  profitable,  and  were  now  pay- 
ing good  dividends.  This  enabled  him  to  meet  the  de- 
ficits in  his  plantation  accounts.  His  son  had  never 
evinced  any  taste  for  the  duties  and  occupations  of  a 
planter  and,  except  in  instances  germaueto  his  own  pur- 
poses and  comfort,  let  plantation  affairs  severely  alone. 

But  the  household  of  Belleview  contained  one  other 
member  worthy  of  some  consideration,  as  she  is  destined 


BELLE  VIE  Y. 


to  fill  no  minor  position  in  our  story.  In  his  younger 
days,  Col.  Gachet  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  genSe- 
man  of  his  own  position  in  life,  by  the  name  of  Owens, 
and  this  acquaintance  soon  ripened  into  a  very  strong 
friendship.  Circumstances  threvr  them  nmch  to*^ 
gether,  and  although  very  unlike  in  many  respects,  their 
friendship  did  not  meet  with  the  same  fate  that  usually 
befalls  such  ties  between  young  men.  It  was  not 
severed  when  each  contracted  the  closer  ties  that  come 
with  marriage,  and  the  establishment  of  homes,  but  con- 
tinued to  grow  stronger  as  time  rolled  by. 

Mr.  Owens  married  about  the  time  of  his  friend's 
second  venture  in  the  matrimonial  line,  and  settled  in  the 
city  of  Macon  ;  not  so  far  away  but  what  frequent  op- 
portunities were  had  of  renewing  their  old  comradeship. 
Business  often  carried  the  Colonel  to  that  city,  where  he 
naturally  made  his  friend's  home  his  stopping  place  ; 
while  Belle  view  furnished  the  latter  and  his  3^oung  family 
with  an  agreeable  resort  for  a  few  days'  or  weeks'  avoid- 
ance of  the  city's  midsummer  heat.  Seated  on  its  cool 
piazzas,  the  two  friends  could  recall  the  pleasant  expe- 
riences of  the  past  in  friendly  chat ;  or,  if  the  humor 
prompted  them,  with  gun  and  rod,  "through  the  leafy 
wood  and  down  on  the  river's  bank,"  renew  the  sports 
and  pastimes  of  their  younger  days. 

Mr.  Owens's  connubial  happiness,  however,  was  of 
short  duration,  for  his  wife  died  within  two  years  after 
the  birth  of  little  Elma,  their  only  child.  As  neither  he 
nor  she  had  any  relatives  in  the  State,  this  bereavement 
was  doubly  severe  to  both  father  and  orphan  ;  but  fortu- 
nately, his  friend,  and  his  friend's  wife,  quickly  proved 
their  loyalty  by  coming  promptly  to  his  assistance. 
Mrs.  Gachet  at  once  insisted  on  taking  care  of  the 
motherless  child,  nor  could  it  have  fallen  into  better 
hands.  While  wealth,  no  doubt,  greatly  lessens  the  sor- 
rows or  misfortunes  of  orphanage,  it  does  not  do  away 
with  them  altogether,  and  the  finding  of  a  second  mother 
like  this  one,  was  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune.  Mrs. 
Gachet's  susceptibilities  were  keenly  aroused,  and 
prompted  by  thoughts  of  the  possibility  of  her  own 
little  girl  meeting  with  so  sad  a  misfortune,  gladly  took 
the  other  to  her  home  and  heart. 

Mr.  Owens  never  married  again,  but  seemed  content 
to  dovQte  the  remainder  of  his  life  to  his  Uttle  girl.     lie 


26  BELLEVIEW,    AND   THE    GACHET    FAMILY. 

wisely  permitted  her  to  remain  with  the  Gachets  until 
arriving  at  that  age  when  her  education  became  a  matter 
of  paramount  importance.  Desiring,  then,  to  overlook 
this  part  of  her  training  personally,  as  well  as  to  have 
her  with  him,  he  took  her  home  and  placed  her  in  a 
school  in  Macon.  Thus,  almost  exclusively  under  the 
care  and  guidance  of  her  father,  Elma  grew  up  to  woman- 
hood. 

In  the  summer  of  1859,  Mr.  Owens  met  with  an  ac- 
cident which  caused  his  death  a  few  days  later.  In  his 
will  bequeathing  all  his  property  to  his  daughter,  he  ap- 
pointed his  old  friend  as  her  guardian.  The  will  stipu- 
lated that  Elma  should  continue  at  school  until  she  grad- 
uated, boarding,  while  doing  so,  in  the  family  of  another 
friend,  a  lawyer  by  the  name  of  Harris,  living  in  Macon. 
It  also  stipulated  that  none  of  the  property,  which  con- 
sisted of  real  estate  and  slaves,  should  be  sold  until 
she  became  of  age,  or  married.  This  was  the  first  great 
sorrow  of  the  girl's  life,  as  she  was  too  young  to  feel  the 
loss  when  her  mother  died.  For  years  her  father  had 
been  filling  the  position  and  duties  of  both  parents.  To 
him  she  had  always  gone  for  sympathy  in  her  girlish 
griefs,  for  participation  in  her  joys,  and  for  counsel  in 
her  trouble  ;  and  the  sudden  rupture  of  all  these  ties 
naturally  made  her  feel  that  all  of  life's  happiness  was 
past.  No  other  loss  could  be  so  severe,  no  other  mis- 
fortune so  great. 

The  wishes  of  the  dead  were  religiously  respected  by 
daughter  and  friend,  and  Elma  continued  her  studies  at 
Macon  until  she  graduated  in  the  June  preceding  the 
opening  of  our  story.  Grief  and  hard  study  had  so 
materially  affected  her  health,  that  Col.  Gachet  en- 
couraged her  in  accepting  a  schoolmate  s  invitation  to 
spend  two  months  of  the  summer  at  the  latter's  home, 
among  the  mountains  of  Tennesee.  The  pure  and 
bracing  ah'  of  the  Cumberlands  acted  like  a  charm  on 
the  overtaxed  mind  and  heart,  and  she  returned,  as  we 
have  seen,  vastly  improved  in  health  and  spirits. 

In  person,  she  was  scarcely  above  medium  height, 
although  an  erect  and  graceful  carriage  made  her  appear 
much  taller,  and  possessed  a  figure  already  well  de- 
veloped, and  gi^^ng  promise  of  future  perfection.  Dark 
brown  hair  and  eyes,  a  clear,  creamy  complexion,  rarely 
to  be  found,  except  in  snnny  climes,  and  —  but  who  can 


BELLEVIEW.  27 

dt scribe  the  beauty  of  woman  ?  To  catalogue  her  features 
might  be  an  easy  task,  but  who  can  picture  with  pen  that 
indescribable  grace  or  charm,  we  call  expression  —  the 
play  of  thought,  of  feeling  and  of  impulse,  that  consti- 
tutes true  beauty,  and  without  which  the  most  classical 
face  becomes  cold  and  repellant?  Besides,  all  persons 
do  not  agree  in  their  estimate  of  female  beauty  ;  a  lovely 
woman  in  the  eyes  of  one,  becoming  only  passable  in 
those  of  another.  Providence  has  wisely  endowed  man- 
kind with  a  great  variety  of  taste  in  that  respect,  or  else, 
as  one  who  had  married  a  notoriously  homely  woman, 
and  thought  he  was  getting  "  the  pick  of  the  county," 
pithily  expressed  it,  ''  everybody  would  have  wanted  my 
wife."  Let  each  reader  employ  his  or  her  imagination  in 
depicting  our  heroine's  charms,  and  then  she  will  be 
beautiful  to  all  alike. 

It  would  be  hard  to  determine  how  much  the  want  of 
a  mother's  watchful  care  had  affected  Elma's  character. 
She  was  different  from  most  of  the  girls  around  her  — 
was  more  independent  and  self-reliant  —  had  her  own 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  and  the  courage  to  follow  them 
out,  regardless  of  what  the  world  might  think.  But  over 
these  peculiarities  hung  a  fine  veil  of  true  womanliness, 
and  consequently,  they  did  not  in  any  wise  detract  from 
her  attractiveness. 


CHAPTER   III. 


THE    SCHOOL    TRUSTEES. 


After  a  good  night's  rest,  Wyndship  arose  the  next 
morning  entirely  recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  his  trav- 
eli?ig.  The  short  evening  had  passed  very  pleasantly, 
his  host  and  hostess,  with  a  true  hospitable  instinct, 
tried  to  put  him  at  ease,  and  to  make  him  feel  at  home. 
In  fact,  he  quite  fell  in  love  with  the  latter's  motherly 
ways,  and  almost  felt  a  reluctance  in  complying,  when 
they  insisted  on  his  retiring  at  an  early  hour ;  as  he 
'' must  be  tired  out,"  they  said,  ''by  his  long  trip  in 
such  hot  weather." 

At  the  breakfast- table  Mrs.  Martin  remarked : 
''  I   hope   you   v/ill   be   pleased   with   Georgia,    Mr. 
Wyndship,  and  will  not  let  our  present  spell  of  dry,   hot 
weather  disgust  you  with  our  Southern  country." 


28  THE    SCHOOL   TRUSTEES. 

''  I  have  experienced  heat  fully  as  oppressive  in  Penn- 
sylvania," he  responded,  "  and  so  far,  my  impressions 
of  the  South  have  been  very  pleasant  indeed.  Judging 
by  the  reception  I  have  met  with  here,  hospitality  must 
be  a  cardinal  virtue  in  Georgia." 

*^  I  dare  say  you  will  continue  to  be  pleased,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Martin.  *'  At  least  that  was  my  experience 
thirty  years  ago.  If  you  will  not  allow  yourself  to  be 
annoyed  by  a  few  hot-head  extremists,  that  are  to  be  , 
found  here  as  well  as  everywhere  else,  you  will  find  ^ 
''  Dixie  "  a  pleasant  abiding  place.  I  will  give  you  just 
four  months,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile,  "to  fall  in 
love  with  a  Georgia  girl,  and  just  twelve  months  to 
marry." 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  likelihood  of  that.  I  came  South 
to  work,  to  gain  a  start  in  life,  not  in  search  of  a  wife." 

"  Neither  did  I,  still  I  found  one." 

*'  And  met  with  a  remarkable  streak  of  good  luck,  I 
perceive,"  responded  the  young  man,  with  a  gallant  bow 
towards  his  hostess  —  "  much  better  than  I  can  expect. 
But  seriously,  I  cannot  allow  myself  to  even  think  of 
such  a  luxury  as  a  wife  yet  awhile.  I  have  a  mother 
dependent  upon  me  :  besides,  I  have  my  fortune  first  to 
make." 

"  That  was  just  the  way  I  felt  when  I  came  South,  a 
poor,  penniless  dry-goods  clerk.  I  had  my  v»'hole  for- 
tune mapped  out —  was  to  work  and  save  until  I  got  a 
little  capital,  then  go  back  to  New  York,  find  me  a  wife 
and  settle  dovrn.  Well,  I  kept  my  purpose  intact  not 
quite  six  months  before  1  concluded  that  I  could  find  a 
wife  and  home  good  enough  right  here." 

"  I  expect  it  is  different  with  Mr.  AYyndship,"  re- 
marked his  wife  pleasantly.  "  Doubtless  he  has  already 
made  a  choice  and  left  her  back  in  Penns3dvania." 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  am  still  '  heart-whole  and  fancy-free.' 
But  my  first  duty  is  to  my  mother.  I  have  set  my  heart 
on  making,  somewhere  in  the  South,  if  I  find  a  better 
opening  here  for  the  practice  of  my  profession,  a  com- 
fortable home,  where  she  can  spend  the  remainder  of 
her  daj'S  with  me." 

"  A  most  laudable  ambition,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  she  re- 
plied, with  an  approving  smile,  "and  I  doubt  not  but 
what  you  will  meet  with  the  success  you  deserve.' ' 

*'Keveitli9less,  I  do  not  withdraw  my  prediction," 


BELLEVIEW.  29 

Persisted  Mr.  Martin.  "  Why,  my  wife,  there,"  he  con- 
tinued, with  a  good-humored  kiugh,  *'  is  a  most  invet- 
erate match-maker,  and  I  will  wager  a  '  thrip'  that  she 
is  already  pondering  in  her  mind  which  of  her  young 
lady  acquaintances  she  will  select  for  you." 

"  You  ought  to  ask  him  who  selected  his  wife?"  Mrs. 
Martin  retorted,  "  who  acted  in  the  capacity  of 
match-maker  for  him  ?" 

"  It  must  have  been  some  one  with  excellent  judg- / 
ment."  j 

"  It  was  a  very  good  old  friend,  if  her  skin  was 
black.  An  old  negro  woman  belonging  to  my  em- 
ployer took  quite  a  fancy  to  me  soon  after  my  arrival 
South.  It  was  part  of  her  duties  to  clean  up  my  room 
at  the  store  where  I  slept,  and  we  soon  got  in  the  way 
of  having  little  confidential  chats  occasionally.  Well, 
one  day  she  told  me  that  she  had  some  advice  to  give 
me,  and  that  was  to  get  married.  I  laughed  and  told 
her  that  I  wasn't  able  to  support  a  wife  ;  besides,  I 
didn't  believe  anybody  would  have  me.  '  Young  Mas- 
ser,'  she  says,  '  thar  is  gwine  to  be  er  young  lady  at 
oursers'  house  next  week,  and  you  jist  sit  yer  cap  for  her, 
and  I  tells  yer,  yer'll  never  'gret  it.'  Well,  the  next 
week  came,  and  the  young  lady  with  it,  and,  to  cut  my 
tale  short,  it  wasn't  very  long  before  my  opinion  of 
Aunt  Lizzie's  judgment  went  up  several  degrees.  I  con- 
cluded I  could  not  do  better  than  to  follow  her  ad- 
vice," nodding  towards  his  wife. 

' '  I  am  sati.sfied  you  could  not  have  followed  better 
advice,  and  if  Mrs.  Martin  were  to  trouble  herself  in 
selecting  me  a  wife,  it  would  not  be  want  of  confidence 
in  her  judgment  on  my  part,  that  would  prevent  the 
match." 

"  My  husband  delights  in  accusing  me  of  match- 
making, but  even  if  I  was  ever  so  much  disposed  that 
wa.y  I  could  do  nothing  just  now  for  the  want  of  mate- 
rial. There  are  very  few  young  ladies  in  this  neighbor- 
hood, and  consequently,  Mr.  Wyndship,  I  can  do  noth- 
ing for  you  in  that  line.  We  had  two  or  three  mar- 
riages last  winter  and  spring  that  exhausted  the  supply, 
so  you  see  my  occupation  is  gone." 

'' You  forget  your  two  most  particular  pets.  Misses 
Gachet  and  Owens." 

^'  Oh  I  the  former  is  already  mortgaged  property,  I 


30  THE    SCHOOL    TRUSTEES.  ^ 

suspect  —  at  least,  Charley  Hurst  would  object  lo  any 
interference  there,  and  as  for  Elma  —  she  is  inclined  to 
have  an  opinion  of  her  own  in  such  matters,  and  might 
not  prove  as  docile  as  Aunt  Lizzie's  subject." 

"  So  you  see,  Mr.  Wyndship,  there  is  but  one  choice 
left  3^ou.  I  told  you  my  wife  was  already  taking  stock 
of  the  supply,  and  making  a  selection.  Well,  it  will 
take  good  generalship  to  win,  but  the  prize  will  be 
'w^orth  the  candle.'  " 

'^  As  I  am  in  no  hurry  and  can  very  well  afford  to 
wait,  would  it  not  be  better  to  delay  the  matter  until 
Mrs.  Martin's  stock  on  hand  is  replenished?"  said  the 
young  man,  as  he  noticed  an  expression,  half  of  amuse- 
ment and  half  annoyance,  on  the  lady's  face. 

"  It  is  hardly  probable  that  she  will  ever  have  an  ar- 
ticle of  more  value,  if  beauty,  wealth  and  sense  are  to 
be  regarded." 

"  Leaving  out  those  qualities  even,  and  she  is  still  a 
girl  to  be  admired,"  said  his  wife  warmly. 

'^  Yes,  but  she  would  not  receive  near  so  much  admir- 
ation if  she  were  deprived  of  those  fascinations,"  said 
Mr.  Martin,  as  they  arose  from  the  the  table. 

As  they  passed  into  the  hall  he  continued,  ''The 
board  of  school  trustees  wishes  you  to  meet  them  at  the 
academy  this  morning,  but  it  is  too  early  yet.  Have  a 
seat  on  the  piazza  while  I  attend  to  one  or  two  little 
matters,  after  which  I  will  walk  up  there  with  you.  If 
you  feel  inclined  to  read,  you  will  find  some  papers  and 
books  in  there,"  pointing  to  the  door  of  a  room,  "  also 
writing  materials,  should  you  wish  to  write.  Do  not 
stand  on  ceremony,  but  act  just  as  if  you  were  at  home. 
My  business  will  not  detain  me  long." 

The  village  of  Somerville  was  situated  on  a  high, 
sandy  ridge,  that  divided  the  river-lands  on  one  side 
from  the  pine-woods  on  the  other.  The  river  was  some 
four  miles  distant  to  the  east,  its  course  being  nearly 
due  south.  With  the  exception  of  the  lowlands,  or 
"  bottom"  proper,  the  country  between  was  more  or  less 
broken,  and  where  not  cleared  and  in  cultivation,  was 
covered  with  a  forest  of  oak,  hickory  and  similar  growth, 
with  a  scattering  of  short-leaved  pine  interspersed. 
These  were  considered  the  best  farming  lands  in  that 
part  of  the  State,  and  were  owned  by  substantial  farm- 
ers or  wealthy  planters,  forming  in  every  respect,  a 


BELLEVIEW.  31 

striking  contrast  with  the  pine  country  to  the  west. 
This  latter  was  proverbial  for  its  barrenness,  and  at 
that  time  was  considered  of  little  value  except  as  a  stock 
range  or  game  preserve.  It  was  thinly  settled  by  poor 
people,  living  in  the  most  primitive  manner,  depending 
principally  upon  the  two  occupations  of  hunting  and 
stock-raising  for  a  livelihood.  The  malaria  that  pre- 
vails on  all  Southern  lowlands  made  a  residence  near  the 
river  undesirable  for  the  whites.  This  fact  probably 
caused  the  existence  of  Somerville,  whose  high  and  dry 
elevation  relieved  it  of  all  miasmatic  influences.  The 
owners  of  plantations  on  the  river  bought  small  tracts 
on  the  ridge  for  residences,  leaving  their  plantations  in 
charge  of  overseers.  In  due  time  the  necessary 
number  of  merchants,  mechanics  and  professional  men 
followed,  and  so  the  little  village  was  gradually 
formed. 

One  of  the  first  needs  felt  by  the  little  community, 
was  some  educational  advantages  for  their  children.  In 
response  to  this  want  they  built  a  house,  and  resolved  to 
establish  a  good  common  school,  where  their  sons  and 
daughters  could  be  prepared  for  entrance  into  the  higher 
colleges  and  universities  ;  or  in  cases  where  it  did  not 
suit  the  parents  to  patronize  these  institutions,  where 
they  could  receive  a  good  English  education.  This  reso- 
lution was  highly  commendable,  but  owing  to  the  pecu- 
liar habits  and  disposition  of  the  Southern  people,  it  was 
never  satisfactorily  carried  out.  Bad  management, 
careless  indifference,  and  a  dislike  to  interfere  in  a  mat- 
ter which  was  everybody's  business,  caused  the  enter- 
prise to  be  neglected,  wiien  it  should  have  received  the 
closest  attention.  Their  wealth  rendered  the  richer 
families  independent  of  local  means  of  education  ;  conse- 
quently, they  felt  no  vital  interest  in  its  success  ;  while 
all  were  influenced  by  that  inclination  for  each  to  paddle 
his  own  canoe,  which  so  materially  affected  Southern 
thought  and  society  before  the  war.  At  any  rate,  the 
school  dragged  on  in  a  slipshod  style,  changing  instruc- 
tors nearly  every  year,  and  woefully  failing  to  accom- 
plish the  good  that  was  intended,  or  that  it  was  reason- 
able to  expect. 

But  this  year  there  had  come  a  change.  One  of  those 
periodic  spurts  at  reformation  that  came  every  once  and 
awhile  took  possession  of  "pater  familias,"  and  they 


32  THE   SCHOOL   TRUSTEES. 

awoke  to  the  importance  of  "  turning  over  a  new  leaf  '* 
in  this  matter.  A  revival  of  interest  was  excited  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  a  new  board  of  trustees  was  placed 
in  control,  with  the  understanding  that  a  radical  change 
from  the  old  methods  would  be  adopted.  As  one  step 
towards  this  proposed  reformation,  the  majority  of  the 
new  board  decided  to  eschew  all  native  teachers,  and  to 
employ  one  fresh  from  the  North ;  arguing,  that  his 
(supposed)  greater  energy,  as  well  as  familiarity  with 
the  improved  methods  prevailhig  in  that  more  enterpris- 
ing section,  would  supply  the  necessary  elements  for 
success.  In  the  carrying  out  of  this  policy,  their  choice 
fell  upon  Wyndship. 

The  latter  had  accidentally  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Judge  Alston,  while  he  (Judge  A.)  was  visiting  Penn- 
sylvania during  the  preceding  spring.  The  Judge  did 
not  live  at  Somerville,  or  the  vicinity ;  but  his  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Harley,  was  one  of  the  new  trustees,  and 
through  him  he  learned  of  their  intention  to  employ  a 
Yankee  teacher.  Remembering  the  young  Pennsylvanian 
— of  whom  he  had  formed  a  very  favorable  opinion — 
and  of  the  desire  he  had  expressed  to  come  South,  he  at 
once  recommended  him  as  the  very  person  they  needed. 
Possibly  the  Judge  was  partly  influenced  by  the  prevail- 
ing animosity  towards  New  England  Yankees,  and 
wanted  to  make  certain  that  his  grandchildren  were  not 
taught  by  one  of  the  hated  tribe.  Pennsylvania  had  not 
at  that  time  become  the  banner  Republican  State.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  the  home  of  President  Buchanan, 
who  was  held  in  high  esteem  throughout  the  South,  and 
was  therefore  entitled  to  special  consideration  at  their 
hands.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  brief  correspondence  that 
followed  the  recommendation,  proved  satisfactory,  and 
Wyndship  was  engaged  to  take  charge  of  the  Somerville 
school. 

The  academy  was  a  two-story  building — the  lower 
story  being  used  for  school  purposes,  and  the  upper  as  a 
Masonic  lodge.  It  was  situated  on  a  hill,  a  little  ways 
out  from  the  village,  and  as  the  new  teacher,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Martin,  approached  it  that  warm  morning,  he 
was  favorably  impressed  with  the  new  field  of  his  labors. 

A  fine  grove  of  oak  trees  partly  surrounded  the  house, 
and  the  dense  shade  they  made,  looked  the  more  inviting 
after  their  warm  walk.     The  spacious  play-ground  was 


BELLEVIEW.  33 

enclosed  by  a  plank  fence,  and  was  divided  by  a  cross 
fence  of  pickets  into  two  parts — one  part,  tlie  shadiest, 
being  generally  set  aside  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the 
girls,  and  the  other  for  the  boys.  The  fact  that  healthy 
exercise  and  physical  comfort  were  of  great  assistance 
to  mental  effort,  had  been  either  obeyed  by  accident,  or 
was  fully  appreciated  by  the  fathers  of  the  community 
in  making  their  selection  of  a  location. 

''  I  will  tell  you  something  of  the  trustees — ^what  kind 
of  men  they  are,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  during  tlieir  walk, 
^'  so  that  you  will  not  be  altogether  at  a  loss  how  to  take 
them.  Mr.  Slaton,  the  senior  member  of  the  board,  is 
the  one  that  will  give  j^ou  the  most  trouble.  He  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  employing  a  Northern  teacher,  and, 
I  expect,  would  not  be  loth  to  break  the  engagement 
now,  if  he  could.  He  is  an  extremist — a  '  fire-eater.' 
He  hates,  or  pretends  to  hate,  all  Yankeedom,  and  wants 
a  Chinese  wall  built  between  the  two  sections.  Politi- 
cally, he  swears  by  Robert  Toombs  and  William  L. 
Yancey,  and  thinks  Alexander  Stephens  ought  to  be 
banished  from  the  State.  In  neighborhood  matters,  he 
is  one  of  the  '  rule  or  ruin '  kind,  and  will  not  pull  ex- 
cept his  way.  I  do  not  know  what  he  was  made  a  trus- 
tee for,  unless  it  was  to  have  every  element  represented  ; 
or  may  be  they  thought  by  putting  him  in  the  lead,  they 
might  get  him  to  work.  So  you  see  your  full  stock  of 
patience  will  probably  be  called  into  service. 

*' Major  Dismukes,  the  second  member  in  seniority, 
is  a  rather  pompous,  dignified  gentleman,  extremely  po- 
lite in  manners,  and  a  great  stickler  for  forms  and  cere- 
monies. He  always  has  some  hobby  that  he  rides  to 
death.  His  present  crotchet,  I  think,  is  improved  meth- 
ods of  education,  and  on  that  point  it  might  be  well  for 
you  to  humor  him  some.  Outside  of  this,  you  will  find 
him  perfectly  harmless,  and  a  clever,  honorable  gentle- 
man, reasonable  in  his  requirements. 

"  Mr.  Harley  is  the  last,  but  not  the  least ;  in  fact,  I 
should  have  mentioned  him  first,  as  he  is  really  the  head 
of  the  board.  He  is  a  plain-spoken,  sensible  man,  with 
plenty  of  determination,  and  entirely  reliable.  If  he 
likes  you,  and  I  apprehend  he  will,  you  can  rely  on  him 
to  back  you  against  a  thousand  Slatons.  Secure  his  and 
the  Major's  support,  and  you  will  have  no  further 
trouble." 


34  THE    SCHOOL    TRUSTEES. 

*'  Thank  you  for  the  information  and  advice.  I  will 
try  to  profit  by  both.  Forewarned  is  forearmed,  j^ouknow." 

They  had  but  a  short  time  to  wait  before  the  three 
trustees  arrived,  and  after  some  desultory  conversation, 
the  business  of  the  meeting  was  taken  up.  The  matter 
of  salary  and  terms  had  already  been  agreed  upon,  but 
to  this  Mr.  Slaton  demurred,  contending  that  the  first 
was  too  high,  and  the  last  too  binding  on  tlje  board.  A 
much  smaller  sum,  he  insisted,  was  liberal  enough,  and 
as  much  as  they  could  pay. 

*'  But  we  made  Mr.  Wyndship  this  offer,  and  he  ac- 
cepted," interposed  Mr.  Harley.  "  That  part  of  the 
contract  is  settled.  Was  that  not  your  understanding, 
Major?" 

"Certainly,  sir.  That  was  the  remuneration  we 
tendered  Mr.  Wyndship  for  his  services,  and,  as  honor- 
able gentlemen,  we  must  abide  by  the  terms  of  the  con- 
tract." 

"  Well,  you're  both  against  me,  and  I'll  have  to  give 
in,  but  it  warn't  my  understanding." 

"  We  have  paid  the  same  salary  to  other  teachers, 
some  of  whom  were  mighty  sorry  ones  ;  and  if  our  young 
friend  here  does  his  duty,  as  I  hope  and  believe  he  will, 
I  shall  not  begrudge  him  a  cent  of  his  pay." 

"  It's  more  than  was  paid  Parson  Pruette,"  persisted 
Mr.  Slaton. 

' '  I  consider  Parson  Pruette  as  high  at  one-tenth  of 
the  money." 

"Ah,  sir ;  that  is  the  reason  why  the  cause  of  educa- 
tion is  at  so  low  an  ebb  in  our  heaven-favored  country. 
The  proportion  of  Pruettes  amongst  the  instructors  of 
our  children  has  heretofore  been  extremely  too  large, 
and  it  is  high  time  that  we  discarded  all  such,  with  their 
old  fogy  methods,"  said  the  Major,  rising  and  throwing 
himself  into  position,  as  if  he  intended  to  deliver  a  set 
speech  to  his  audience. 

"  I  think  Parson  Pruette  was  a  mighty  good  teacher, 
myself.  He  suited  me  mighty  well,"  interrupted  the 
senior  member,  doggedly.  "  If  j^ou  two  are  bent  on 
paying  that  fancy  price,  you  can  just  go  ahead,  but 
count  me  out,  if  you  please.  It's  entirely  too  much  to 
suit  me,  these  hard  times." 

"  Why,  sir,  what  better  investment  can  you  possibly 
make  of   your  means?    What  more  lucrative,  or  more 


BELLEVIEW.  S5 

commendable  use  crin  you  make  of  your  money 
than  in  dispelling  the  dark  clouds  of  ignorance  that  en- 
velop our  land,  and  in  letting  the  glorious  light  of 
knowledge  shine  on  the  benighted  intellects  around?'* 
The  Major's  periods  were  not  as  sonorous  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, so  clearing  his  throat,  he  commenced  again : 
*'  Here  we  are,  at  least  a  generation  behind  our  brethren 
of  the  North  in  the  most  important  interests  that  could 
possibly  affect  us  as  a  people.  While  they  are  ever  on 
the  qui  vive  for  every  new  idea,  and  every  improved 
text-book,  we  keep  on  in  the  same  old  rut,  with  the 
same  old  treatises  and  the  same  old  methods,  as  if  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  progTess.  Instead  of  keeping  our 
place  in  the  vanguard  of  ci^'ilization,  we  are  rapidly 
falling  behind,  destined  without  a  change  to  be  soon 
distanced  by  the  enlightened  world." 

"Enlightened  fiddlesticks!  I  don't  believe  in  any 
sich  doctrine  as  that.  If  we  would  stay  at  home,  'n 
not  be  runnin'  North  after  every  new-fangled  Yankee 
trick,  we'd  be  a  sight  better  off,  I  think.  The  Southern 
people  have  got  just  as  much  sense  and  as  much  civiliz- 
zation  as  any  other  folks,  and  if  we'd  stop  runnin'  down 
home  things  and  home  customs,  and  goin'  crazy  over 
everj^thing  north  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line,  we'd  get 
along  weU  enough." 

"Why,  sir,  just  such  doctrines  as  that  have  been 
preached  by  the  enemies  of  progress  ever  since  the  di- 
vine light  of  knowledge  first  began  to  dawn  upon  a  be- 
nighted world.  Against  just  such  arguments  as  you  are 
using  science  and  learning  have  had  to  battle  since  ante- 
diluvian periods,  but  thanks  to  that  thirst  for  knowledge 
which  a  beneficial  Jehovah  has  implanted  in  every  true 
Caucasian  breast,  the  powers  of  ignorance  and  darkness 
have  been  met  and  defeated  on  every  field."  (In  his  en- 
thusiasm the  Major  forgot  to  be  accurate.)  *'  Shall  we 
of  the  South  sit  supinely  down,  hugging  to  om-  bosoms 
the  blind  prejudices  and  superstitions  of  a  dead  past 
while  the  battle  rages  around?  Would  you,  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship,  as  a  representative  of  your  wide-awake  section, 
advise  such  a  course  ?" 

Notwithstanding  a  feeling  of  sensitive  emban-ass- 
ment  caused  by  the  unpleasant  manner  in  which  the  dis- 
cussion commenced,  Wyndship  could  not  help  feeling 
considerably  amused,  particularly  when  he  noticed  how 


^6  THE   SCHOOL   TRUSTEES. 

much  Mr.  Martin  was  enjoying  it,  and  how  much  Mr. 
Haiie}^  was  not.  The  orator's  sudden  appeal,  however, 
rather  took  him  by  surprise. 

''  Not  exactly,  Major.  We  should  always  be  ready 
to  receive  and  to  utilize  any  genuine  improvement  in 
mind,  as  well  as  in  all  other  vocations  of  life.  But 
Gvery  new  idea,  every  new  departure  is  not  always  an  im- 
provement on  the  old  way,  and  sometimes  it  requires 
fine  powers  of  discrimination  to  distinguish  the  bogus 
from  the  genuine." 

••'  Yes,  and  about  nine-tenths  of  them  are  bogus,*' 
said  Mr.  Slaton,  with  a  sneer.  ''  The  very  worst  kind 
of  humbugs." 

*' Ah,  sir,  would  you  have  me  leave  my  grain  in  the 
field  because  a  few  tares  had  sprung  up  in  its  midst  ?  " 
asked  the  Major,  addressing  AYyndship. 

"  By  no  means.  I  think  it  better  to  be  humbugged  oc- 
casionally than  to  live  like  a  turtle  in  a  shell." 

''Well,  Ray's  'rithmetic  and  Murray's  grammar  is 
good  enough  for  me.  They're  what  I  studied  when  I 
went  to  school,  and  —  and  is  what  I  want  my  childi'en 
to  study  now." 

' '  Do  you  think  he  got  much  of  the  grammar  ?"  Mr. 
Martin  whispered  aside  to  the  j^oung  man. 

"  Suppose  we  defer  this  discussion  to  some  other 
time,"  broke  in  Mr.  Harley,  as  the  Major  again  opened 
his  mouth,  "  and  finish  the  business  before  us.  The  sal- 
ary a.nd  terms  I  have  mentioned  are  in  accordance  with 
your  understanding,  are  they  not,  Mr.  Wyndship  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but—" 

"  Well,  we  may  consider  that  point  settled,  and — " 

"  Then  I  must  git  you  to  excuse  me  from  sarvin'  any 
longer  on  the  board,"  interrupted  Mr.  Slaton.  "  I 
hain't  a  goin'  to  obligate  myself  to  pay  sich  a  price,  nor 
vote  to  make  my  neighbors  pay  it.  You  'n  the  Major 
kin  just  go  ahead,  but  count  me  out." 

''  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  say  that,  Mr.  Slaton. 
I—" 

''  Why,  my  dear  sir,"  broke  in  the  Major,  "  you  will 
not  —  surely  you  will  not  interpose  and  be  an  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  the  improvements  we  contemplate  carrying 
out  in  our  school  ?  Stop  —  consider  —  do  not  antagon- 
ize the  best  interests  of  the  young  minds  in  our  com- 
munity." 


BELLEYTEW.  37 

^' I'll  not  antagonize  nothing  that  I  think  is  for  the 
good  of  the  neighborhood,  but  I  can't  sign  that  con- 
tract." 

Mr.  Harley's  face  darkened  somewhat,  but  his  voice 
and  manner  remained  unchanged.  "  I  thought  the  mat- 
ter was  fully  understood  before  I  wrote  to  ]Mr.  Wynd- 
ship,  making  him  the  offer.  ^Ve  three  talked  the  matter 
over,  and  you  made  no  objection  to  the  price.  It  is 
very  much  to  be  regretted  that  we  can't  pull  together  in 
this  business  —  it  would  not  only  be  more  agreeable, 
but  probably  much  better  for  the  school." 

"I  can't  agree  to  them  figgers  —  you '11  haf  to  go 
ahead  without  me,"  was  the  uncompromising  reply. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  AYj^ndship,  with  quite  a  red  face, 
"  I  was  not  prepared  for  this.  I  thought  the  question 
of  salarj^  was  fully  understood  and  agreed  upon  before 
I  accepted  your  offer,  but,  rather  than  cause  dissension 
among  you,  and  in  the  neighborhood,  I  will  withdraw 
my  pretensions  to  the  school.  Possibly  you  can  agree 
better  with  some  one  else." 

During  the  silence  which  followed  this,  Mr.  Harley, 
vexed  and  impatient  now,  drummed  with  his  fingers 
nervousl}^  on  the  desk  at  which  he  was  seated.  The 
Major,  still  standing,  and  with  anus  folded,  gazed  on 
the  others  with  a  blank  expression  of  dismay  and  sur- 
prise on  his  hitherto  complacent  countenance,  while 
Slaton  fidgeted  in  his  seat. 

"  Mr.  Slaton,  j^ou  do  not  mean  that  j^ou  will  not  pat- 
ronize the  school?"  asked  Mr.  Martin,  quietly. 

He  hesitated  before  answering,  and  Harley,  noticing 
the  hesitation,  smothered  his  vexation  and  said : 

"  I  have  made  a  careful  calculation,  and  with  only 
three-fourths  of  the  pupils  in  attendance  that  we  have 
reason  to  expect,  we  can  easil}^  pay  this  salary,  and  not 
charge  any  higher  rate  per  scholar  than  we've  been  pay- 
ing hitherto.  Indeed,  I  would  be  perfectly  willing  to 
assume  all  responsibility  under  the  contract,  with  the 
understanding  that  every  pupil  pays  the  customary  tui- 
tion of  the  county." 

' '  I  think  that  you  have  some  children  who  ought  to 
be  going  to  school,"  again  suggested  Mr.  Martin,  pleas- 
antly. 

"  Major  Dismukes  here  will  join  me,  I  believe,  in 
agreeing  to  release  you  from  all  responsibility  as  to  the 


38  THE   SCHOOL   TRUSTEES. 

salary,  and  in  guaranteeing  that  you  will  not  have  to 
pay  any  more  per  head  than  you  paid  Parson  Pruette. 
\yon't  you,  Major?" 

"  Certainly  —  certainly,  I  will." 

"Well,"  said  Slaton,  fairly  cornered,  "I  reckon  I'll 
send  one  or  two  —  a  part  of  the  time,  anyhow.  I'd 
'bout  made  up  my  mind  to  send  my  oldest  gal  to  Macon, 
but  —  I'll  see  about  it." 

With  this  concession  the  others  seemed  to  be  content, 
and  the  discussion  turned  on  minor  matters,  all  of  which 
were  speedily  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  both  contract- 
ing parties.  Wyudship,  supposing  that  the  business  of 
the  meeting  was  over,  waited  for  the  movement  to  ad- 
journ, but  there  still  appeared  to  be  something  on  Mr. 
Harley's  mind.  He  recommenced  his  drumming  on  the 
desk,  looking  out  first  one  window  and  then  another. 
At  length,  as  if  wishing  to  get  through  with  a  disagree- 
able job,  he  said ; 

"  Mr.  Wyndship,  there  is  one  other  question  I  wish 
to  ask  you,  and  my  doing  so,  I  hope,  will  not  make  you 
think  that  I  am  prompted  by  any  impertinent  or  partisan 
feeling.  It  is  in  regard  to  your  political  views.  Of 
course  I  appreciate  the  fact  that  a  man's  opinions  on 
that  subject  are  his  own,  and  for  v/hich  he  is  responsible 
to  no  one  under  our  republican  government.  I  do  not 
wish  to  question  your  privilege  in  that  respect  in  the 
least ;  still,  as  you  are  to  occupy  a  confidential  position 
in  our  little  community,  doubtless  it  would  be  best  — 
might  save  misapprehension  in  the  future,  to  have  a  can- 
did expression  from  you  on  the  subject." 

''  I  have  no  objection  in  the  world  to  answering  your 
question,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "  I  am  a  Democrat, 
and  what  few  times  I  have  voted,  have  been  with  that 
party.  I  have  not  come  south,"  he  added,  smilingly, 
"  with  the  intention  of  leading  an  anti-slavery  crusade." 

'' That  is  enough  —  I  am  satisfied.  It  is  understood 
that  the  school  will  —  " 

*'Mr.  Wyndship,"  interrupted  Slaton,  "  do  you  be- 
lieve it  is  right  or  wrong  to  own  niggers  ?  " 

"  To  give  you  an  honest  and  candid  reply,  I  think  that 
is  owing  to  circumstances  and  to  locality." 

''How?" 

*'  That  it  would  be  right  here  in  Georgia,  and  wrong 
in  Pennsylvania." 


BELLEVIEW.  39 

"  How  do  you  make  that?  " 

"  Slavery  already  exists  here  in  Georgia  as  an  estab- 
lished institution ;  it  is  the  will  of  your  people  that  it 
should  exist,  and  probably  its  continuance,  at  least  for 
the  present,  is  better  for  the  good  of  the  country  ;  there- 
fore it  is  right.  It  does  not  exist  in  Pennsylvania,  and 
the  people  in  that  State  are  opposed  to  its  being  estab- 
lished there ;  consequently,  to  attempt  it,  would  be 
wrong." 

"  Don't  you  believe  that  I  have  a  perfect  right  to  carry 
my  niggers  into  any  State  or  Territory  under  this  govern- 
ment?" 

"  And  there  keep  and  hold  them  as  slaves?" 

''Yes  —  ain't  they  my  property?  And  ain't  it  the 
business  of  this  government  to  protect  every  man's 
property  ?" 

''But  they  are  not  recognized  as  property  in  the  free 
States." 

"  It  makes  no  difference  ;  they  are  still  my  property." 

"  No  sir  ;  I  don't  believe  that  you  have  any  such  right. 
I  am  too  much  of  a  Democrat  to  accept  that  theory  or 
supposition,  as  right." 

"Too  much  of  a  Democrat?  I'd  like  to  know  why 
that  ain't  good  sound  Democratic  doctrine  ?" 

"Because  it  is  at  variance  with  my  ideas  of  State 
rights,  and  of  local  self-government,  which  I  have  been 
taught  was  one  of  the  cardinal  principles  of  the  Dem- 
ocratic party.  While  I  grant  you  the  privilege  of  hold- 
ing slaves  in  Georgia,  if  you,  the  people  of  Georgia,  see 
fit,  we,  the  citizens  of  Pennsylvania,  claim  the  right  of 
saying  the  institution  shall  not  exist  among  us,  and  that 
you  shall  not  bring  your  negroes  and  hold  them  as  slaves 
within  our  borders,  thereby  establishing  slavery  there 
against  the  will  of  the  people.  That  is  my  understanding 
of  the  doctrine  of  State's  rights." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  but  I  can't  send  my 
children  to  your  school.  I  have  said  it  —  and  I  will 
stick  to  it  —  that  I'll  never  let  any  man  teach  my  chil- 
dren who  denies  me  the  right  to  take  my  property  any- 
where under  this  government  that  I  see  fit.  I  am  sorry 
it's  so,  but  I  can't  help  it.  Mr.  Harley  and  Major  I^is- 
^lukes  here  seem  determined  on  haring  you,  but  I,  for 
one,  can't  send  to  you." 

"  You  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  act  as  you  please  in  t^  3 


40  THE    SCHOOL    TRUSTEES. 

matter,"  was  the  spirited  reply.  Then  turning  to  the 
other  two,  Wyndship  continued :  "  As  it  is  very  evident 
that- 1  will  not  suit  Mr.  Slaton  as  a  teacher,  I  will  with- 
draw my  application.  You  can  soon  secure  the  sei'\^ices 
of  some  one  who  will  give  better  satisfaction  all  around 
—  some  one  whom  the  entire  neighborhood  can  patronize 
without  division.  While  my  necessities  make  the  sit- 
uation very  desirable,  in  a  pecuniary  way,  still  were  I 
ten  times  more  dependent  than  I  am,  I  would  not  wil- 
lingly become  a  bone  of  dissension  in  this  community. 
Neither  will  I  assume  a  character,  or  pretend  to  hold 
opinions  not  in  accordance  with  my  honest  convictions. 
Therefore,  we  had  better  drop  the  matter  right  here." 

"I  am  perfectly  willing  to  'drop  the  matter  right 
here,'  with  the  understanding  that  you  commence  school 
Monday  morning,"  said  Mr.  Harley,  quietly,  at  the  same 
time  picking  up  a  pen  and  writing  his  name  to  the  con- 
tract lying  on  the  desk  before  him.  "What  say  you. 
Major?"  he  asked,  pushing  the  pen  and  paper  towards  his 
colleague.  The  latter  seated  himself,  carefully  wiped  and 
adjusted  his  glasses,  and  signed  the  instrument  before  an- 
swering. Rising,  he  turned  to  Wyndship,  and  with  a 
bow  and  impressive  wave  of  the  hand,  said  : 

''I  am  not  willing,  Mr.  Wyndship,  for  this  commu- ■ 
nity  to  be  deprived  of  your  valuable  sen^ices.     I  regard 
this  little    discussion  on  politics  as  being  unnecessary 
and  foreign  to  the  subject." 

"Well,"  cried  Slaton,  angrily,  turning  towards  the 
door,  "  I  might  as  well  leave,  I  reckon,  seeing  that  you 
two  are  bent  on  goin'  ahead,  anyhow.  Time  will  show 
which  of  us  is  right  —  when  the  abolitionists  free  all 
your  niggers,  and  ruin  the  country." 

"  Sorry  that  you  can't  agree  and  go  with  us,"  said  Mr. 
Harley,  coolly,  without  looking  around.  "  Mr.  AYynd- 
ship,  will  you  please  sign  your  name  here?"  he  added, 
almost  in  the  same  breath.  "  I  have  the  contract  in  du- 
plicate, one  of  which  you  can  take." 

"  But  I  don't  like  to  —  " 

"Oh,  hush,"  remonstrated  Mr.  Martin,  in  a  whisper. 

"Don't  you  see  that  the  other  two  are  glad  to  be  rid 
of  him?" 


:n 


BELLE  VIEW.  41 

CHAPTER  IV. 

COLONEL  GACHET  DISCOURSES  POLITICALLY. 

Wyndship's  pride  and  judgment  both  rebelled  against 
the  idea  of  accepting  the  school,  when  he  saw  there  was 
no  longer  any  chance  of  agreement  among  the  trustees. 
He  believed  the  dissension  would  extend  to  the  patrons, 
thereby  causing  an  unpleasant  division  in  the  commu- 
nity. Under  these  circumstances,  he  could  not  expect 
the  degree  of  success  that  would  satisfy  his  own  con- 
science, and  besides,  his  own  position  would  not  be  at 
all  agreeable.  The  other  two  trustees,  hov/ever,  did  not 
take  the  same  view  of  the  matter,  and  showed  no  hesi- 
tation in  closing  the  contract.  They  regarded  Mr. 
Slaton's  defection  as  of  slight  importance,  in  fact,  rather 
as  a  benefit  than  an  injury  to  the  school,  as  his  partici- 
pation in  its  management  would  be  an  obstacle  to  har- 
monious action.  Mr.  Martin  expressed  the  same  opinion, 
assuring  him  that  he  need  apprehend  no  trouble  on  that 
account,  but  rather  congratulate  himself  on  the  fortunate 
riddance.  Consequently,  influenced  by  these  opinions, 
he  at  length  reluctantly  accepted,  with  the  reservation, 
that  should  the  feelings  of  the  patrons,  or  a  strong  mi- 
nority of  them,  prove  to  be  adverse  to  him  as  a  teacher, 
and  refuse  to  patronize  him,  then  he  should  have  the 
right  of  withdrawing. 

As  this  was  Saturday,  and  his  labors  were  to  begin  on 
Monday,  he  felt  the  importance  of  securing  a  boarding 
place  at  once.  Consequently,  after  dinner,  when  he  and 
his  host  had  repaired  to  the  customary,  seats  on  the  porch, 
he  broached  the  subject  by  asking  his  advice. 

"  Do  you  wish  board  in  a  private  family,  or  would  you 
prefer  the  tavern  down  here  ?" 

"  In  a  private  family,  by  all  means." 

''  Yes,  I  suppose  it  would  be  be  better,  and  pleasanter. 
Well,  there  are  several  places  where  you  could  get  board 
that  would  be  convenient  enough  to  the  academy,  (all 
Scmerville  called  the  school-house  *' the  academy),  but 
here  comes  the  '  Madam,'  suppose  we  ask  her  advice  ?  " 

The  question  was  presented  to  Mrs.  Martin,  who  had 
joined  them. 

*'  Suppose  Mr.  Wyndship  remains  with  us  next  week," 


42  COLONEL    GACHET    DISCOURSES    POLITICALLY. 

she  suggested.  *'  That  will  give  him  time  to  look  around 
and  get  acquainted." 

"  But  I  feel  like  I  have  trespassed  on  your  good  nature 
too  long  already." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  hav  n't.     We  —  " 

*'  If  you  never  commit  any  greater  trespass,  young 
man,  j^our  chances  of  eternal  happiness  will  be  very  good," 
interrupted  Mr.  Martin,  dryly.  "But  I  see  you  are  in 
great  danger  of  falling  into  one  pernicious  habit  —  one 
that  has  been  a  stumbling  block  to  the  verdant  young  in 
all  ages." 

""What  is  that?"  queried  Wyndship,  hardly  knowing 
how  to  take  hun. 

"  Not  accepting  good  advice  when  given  you.  I  al- 
ways did  when  I  was  a  young  man." 

"  So  I  perceive  —  at  least  on  one  occasion." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  I  thought  my  advice  was  asked  for 
in  earnest,"  said  Mrs.  Martin,  with  mock  dignity  that 
made  the  other  two  laugh. 

"  I  was  in  earnest,  Mrs.  Martin,  very  much  in  earnest." 

"  I  think  my  proposal  the  best  plan,  then.  Stay  with 
us  next  week,  until  3^ou  get  better  acquainted,  or  until 
you  find  a  pleasanter  place." 

"  I  can  not  hope  to  find  a  pleasanter  place." 

"  In  that  case,  you  might  as  well  remain  with  us  ;  but 
you  will  soon  get  tired  of  the  companionship  of  two  old 
people,  lilie  ourselves.  It  will  be  entirely  too  dull. 
When  you  get  tired,  however,  you  can  easily  change." 

"  No  danger  of  that.  It  is  j^ou  that  will  tire  of  me. 
Do  you  really  mean  that  you  will  board  me  ?  " 

"Yes, — until  you  get  tired  of  so  dull  a  home,  and 
find  a  place  you  like  better." 

"  You  are  making  a  bad  trade,  Mrs.  Martin,"  laughed 
Wyndship.  "  If  I  am  to  stay  here  until  I  find  a  home 
I  like  better,  j'OU  will  never  get  rid  of  me.  I  know  that 
you  will  have  to  drive  me  away  in  the  end." 

*'  We  sometimes  get  a  little  lonesome  by  ourselves," 
said  Mr.  Martin,  dropping  his  light  tone,  "  consequently 
cm-  offer  to  board  you  is  a  selfish  one  at  least.  We  like 
the  company  of  young  people,  and  it  cannot  always  be 
had  for  the  asking.  Providence  has  deemed  it  best  to 
deny  us  children  —  even  adopted  ones,  as  a  little  girl  we 
took  to  raise  some  years  ago  died  soon  after  her  seventh 


BELLEVIEW.  43 

birthday.  So  you  see  that  we  are  making  no  sacrifice  in 
boarding  you," 

A  period  of  silence  followed  this  speech,  during  which 
Mrs.  Martin  left  them  to  look  after  some  household  mat- 
ters.    AV^mdship  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  I  have  always  understood,"  he  said,  "  that  South- 
ern society  was  very  exclusive,  and  I  was  told  before  I 
left  home  that  I  might  expect  to  be  ostracised  by  the 
better  class  —  that  I  might  prepare  myself  for  a  lonely 
time  as  long  as  I  remained  here,  or  until  I  became  the 
fortunate  possessor  of  a  few  slaves." 

"  Did  you  believe  it?" 

"  I  hardly  knew  whether  to  believe  it  or  not.  Judge 
Alston  was  the  only  Southern  gentleman  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  had  ever  made,  and  I  found  him  very 
pleasant  and  sociably  inclined,  although  I  imagined  that 
I  could  see  in  his  manner  some  little  appreciation  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  Gentleman  of  the  South." 

' '  Doubtless  you  did ;  I  do  not  believe  any  of  them 
are  ashamed  of  it." 

"  But  was  my  information  correct?" 

'^  If  you  had  waited  six  months  you  would  not  have 
asked  so  —  I  came  very  near  saying  so  foolish  a  ques- 
tion. I  am  Northern-born  and  raised  —  have  never  at- 
tempted to  disguise  or  suppress  that  fact,  still  I  know 
of  no  society  in  this  State  that  would  close  their  doors 
on  me  should  I  choose  to  enter." 

"  Yes,  but  you  have  long  since  probably  gained  ad- 
mittance into  the  charmed  circle." 

"  Young  man,  you  talk  nonsense.  '  Charmed  circle,' 
the  mischief  !  there  is  no  charmed  circle.  We  claim  the 
privilege  of  choosing  our  own  associates  —  maybe  we 
are  more  independent  in  that  respect  than  any  people 
on  the  globe,  but  there  is  no  high  Chinese  wall  around 
Uo  I  assure  you.  Every  land  and  every  'people  have 
their  different  strata  of  society,  so  have  we.  Every- 
where wealth  has  its  power  and  its  privileges  just  as  it 
has  here,  but  in  no  country  is  it  less  considered  as  a 
necessary  qualification  for  admission  into  good  society. 
A  person  of  good  character,  who  knows  how  to  act  as  a 
gentleman  should,  is  never  '  ostracised.'  If  he  hasn't  a 
dollar  in  the  world,  but  has  the  mental  and  moral  quali- 
fications necessary  to  make  his  company  agreeable,  he 
can  enter  houses  and  homes  where  the  wealthy-born  has 


44  COLONEL    GACHET   DISCOURSES    POLITICALLY. 

never  dared  to  venture.  At  least,  such  has  been  my  ex- 
perience. I  came  to  Milledgeville,  the  capital  of  the 
State,  with  nothing  but  a  letter  vouching  for  my  honesty 
and  moral  character,  and  I  was  received  and  made  wel- 
come in  every  family  I  cared  to  visit.  My  wife  belonged 
to  one  of  the  first  families  in  Georgia,  and  while  I  was, 
doubtless,  not  the  first  choice  of  her  parents,  still  no  se- 
rious objection  was  made  to  our  union,  and  since  that 
happy  event  I  have  never  received  from  any  of  her  kin-  | 
dred  the  least  intimation  that  they  regarded  her  marriage  I 
as  a  '   mesalliance.'" 

''  That  was  thirty  years  ago  —  has  not  time,  or  rather, 
has  not  the  institution  of  slavery  produced  a  change  — 
a  different  condition  and  feeling  in  society  since  then? 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  tendency  of  the  latter  would  be 
to  widely  separate  the  different  classes  and  grades  of 
society  —  get  up  a  condition  somevf hat  similar  to  the  old 
feudal  system." 

"  Convince  a  man  against  his  will, 
And  he  is  of  the  same  opinion  still." 

quoted  Mr.  Martin,  with  a  mock  exhibition  of  de- 
spair. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  am  open  to  conviction  —  I  only  want  to 
know  the  truth." 

''Time  has  wrought  a  change,  I  believe,  in  one  re- 
spect. Cultivation  of  mind  and  refinement  of  manners 
is  more  regarded  than  formerly,  and  it  is  natural  that  it 
should  be  as  the  country  grows  older.  But  the  people 
of  the  South  are  thoroughly  democratic,  not  only  in  their 
party  affiliations,  but  also  in  their  social  laws  and  cus- 
toms. Nowhere  is  there  more  freedom  of  individual 
opinions  and  individual  action,  more  laxity  of  conven- 
tional laws,  and  less  espionage  as  to  private  affairs." 

''You  forget  slavery,"  suggested  Wyndship  dryly. 
"  There  is  not  much  freedom  of  opinion  on  that  subject, 
eh?" 

Mr.  Martin  colored  as  he  perceived  how  neatly  he 
was  cornered. 

"  More  than  you  think,"  he  hastily  replied,  "  but  that 
is  our  one  sore  spot.  Why,  we  have  a  man  in  this 
neighborhood  who  was  born  and  raised  here,  and  who 
owns  slaves  himself,  that  is,  I  dare  say,  as  strong  an 


BELLEVIEW.  45 

abolitionist  in  sentiment  as  you  can  find  in  the  North. 
What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  That  he  must  certainly  be  a  great  curiosity,  or  —  " 

"Or  what?" 

''  Has  not  the  courage  to  live  up  to  his  convictions." 

*'  He  has  as  much  moral  courage  as  any   man,   and  I 
believe  if  he  thought  freedom  would  benefit  or  make  his 
negroes    any    better   or   happier,   he  would  emancipate 
them  to-morrow.     You  met  the  gentleman  I  allude  tc/ 
last  evening  —  Dr.  Hurst."  | 

Just  then  a  buggy  drove  up  to  the  gate  and  inter- 
rupted their  conversation.  Col.  Gachet  got  out,  gave 
some  instructions  to  the  negro  boy  who  was  driving  him, 
and  then  came  in  the  gate. 

"  Speaking  of  Southern  exclusiveness,"  said  Mr. 
Martin,  "there  comes  the  richest  man  in  the  county  — 
he  was  born  rich —  he  can  trace  his  ancestry  back  to  the 
Huguenots  of  France  —  his  pride  is  so  great  that  even 
his  friends  laugh  at  it.  Now,  I  predict  two  things  : 
First,  that  he  remembers  and  acknowledges  the  intro- 
duction 3^esterday ;  secondly,  that  before  he  leaves  he 
will  invite  you  to  visit  him  at  home,  and  — "  but  the 
object  of  the  remarks  had  come  too  close  for  Mr.  ]Mar- 
tin  to  finish  his  predictions,  and  he  had  to  change  them 
to  a  "good  evening,"  and  an  invitation  to  the  new- 
comer to  "  walk  in." 

The  Colonel  instantly  verified  the  first  prophecy  by 
shaking  hands  vrith  Wyndship,  and  expressing  a  pleasure 
in  meeting  him  again,  etc.  Later  on,  after  some  con- 
versation with  Mr.  Martin  on  some  business,  that  was 
evidently  the  principal  object  of  his  visit,  he  turned 
again  to  the  young  man,  and  politely  said  : 

"  I  presume,  Mr.  Wyndship,  that  j^ou  are  just  from 
the  North,  and  that  this  is  your  first  visit  to  our  sec- 
tion?" 

The  reply  to  this  being  in  the  aflSrmative,  he  con- 
tinued : 

Then  it  is  too  soon  for  me  to  put  the  stereotyped  ques- 
tion, "  How  do  you  like  our  country?  " 

"  My  impressions  have  been  very  pleasant  so  far." 

"I  trust  and  believe  that  they  will  continue  to  be 
pleasant,  sir.  I  apprehend  that  the  longer  you  reside  in 
Georgia,  and  the  better  you  become  acquainted  with  the 
people,  the  more  highly  you  will  be  pleased." 


46  COLONEL    GACHET    DISCOURSES    POLITICALLY. 

''  I  had  just  been  giving  some  of  his  Yankee  notions 
and  prejudices  a  cold-water  bath  when  you  came  in," 
said  Mr.  Martin. 

"  That  is  right,  turn  a  stream  of  cold  facts  on  his  er- 
roneous ideas  and  opinions  until  the  dust  is  washed  from 
his  eyes.  "Why,  he  continued  to  Wyndship,  "Mr. 
Martin  here  came  from  the  North  himself,  and  no  doubt 
he  was  chock  full  and  running  over  with  prejudices 
against  us  at  first,  but  just  see  what  a  typical  Southern 
man  we  have  made  him." 

"If  Mr.  Martin  is  the  typical  Southern  man,  then 
what  little  prejudices  I  have  —  if  I  have  any  —  are  al- 
ready conquered." 

"  He  may  be  a  little  above  the  average,"  replied  the 
Colonel,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  to  silence  that  gentle- 
man's protestations,  "in  fact,  I  regard  him  as  much 
above  the  average.  You  must  know  that  w^e  have  good 
and  bad  in  every  community." 

"  Of  course,"  assented  the  stranger. 

"  But  I  think,  and  I  doubt  not  but  what  your  coming 
experience  will  bear  me  out  in  the  assertion,  that  the  bad 
element  constitutes  a  smaller  proportion  among  our  peo- 
ple than  among  yours  of  the  North." 

"  I  will  be  glad  to  find  it  so,  but  you  must  excuse  me 
from  admitting  as  much  at  present." 

"  Certainly,  patriotism  is  a  noble  sentiment  —  one 
that  commands  the  respect  of  all  right  thinking  people. 
We  cannot  expect  you  to  admit  a  fact  derogatory  to 
your  own  section  —  at  least,  not  until  the  ties  of  adop- 
tion have  become  as  strong  as  those  of  nativity.  What 
state  are  you  from,  Mr.  Wyndship  ? " 

The  assumption  that  the  people  of  Georgia  were  better 
than  those  of  the  North  rather  nettled  the  young  man 
for  the  moment,  but  controlling  his  desire  to  dispute  the 
proposition,  he  answered  politely : 

"  From  Penns^dvania." 

"Ah,  that  is  a  great  State  — one  that  has  contributed 
some  able  statesmen  to  this  government." 

"Yes,  I  think  Pennsylvania  has  had  —  and  has  yet 
for  that  matter  —  many  sons  of  whom  she  can  very  well 
afford  to  feel  proud." 

"  Undoubtedly.  From  the  dark  days  of  Seventy-six 
down  to  the  present  time,  she  can  present  a  long  list  of 


BELLEVIEW.  47 

illustrious  names,  and  amoug  them  the  name  of  James 
Buchannan  is  not  the  least." 

"You  are  a  warm  admirer  of  President  Buchannan, 
then?" 

"  I  am.  Holding  as  I  do  so  strongly  to  the  true  prin- 
ciples of  the  Democratic  party,  and  zealous  as  I  am  of 
the  rights  of  my  section,  I  cannot  but  admire  one  who 
has  so  ably  maintained  the  one  and  defended  the 
otlier." 

"  As  a  natural  consequence,  then,  you  are  a  supporter 
of  Breckemidge  and  Kane?"  Thinldng  that  he  had 
struck  a  representative  Southern  man,  Wyndship  wished 
to  draw  him  out. 

"You  are  correct,  most  heartily  do  I  support  that 
ticket.  1  regard  the  so-called  Cincinnati  platform, 
with  the  addition  of  the  resolution  offered  in  the  Senate 
last  Februarj^,  by  Mr.  Davis  of  Mississippi,  as  the  true 
doctrine  of  Democracy,  and  I  hope  to  see  them  triumph- 
antly vindicated  next  November  by  the  American  peo- 
ple." 

"  I  m.ust  differ  with  you  in  respect  to  the  resolution, 
Colonel.  That  was  a  most  unfortunate  move  on  the 
part  of  the  Southern  Democrats,  and  I  fear  that  it  will 
have  a  disastrous  effect  oil  our  chances  of  electing  a 
Democrat  this  fall.  We  had  better  stuck  to  '  Squatter 
Sovereignty,'  and  let  each  territory  decide  the  question 
of  slavery  for  itself." 

"  Never  sir.  '  Squatter  Sovereignty  '  is  the  most  de- 
lusive price  of  demagogism  that  ever  originated  in  the 
political  world.  Like  the  apples  of  Asphaltum,  it  is  fair 
and  pleasant  to  the  eye,  but  ashes  to  our  taste.  Under 
the  specious  plea  of  self-government,  it  virtually  debars 
we  slave-owners  from  all  participation  in  that  vast  terri- 
tory acquired  in  common  by  our  joint  arms  and  our  gen- 
eral treasury.  It  says  to  us  that  contributed  our  share 
of  the  money  and  more  than  our  share  of  the  blood  that 
bought  it :  '  stand  back,  you  shall  have  no  part  and  lot 
in  its  benefits.'  Did  not  the  South  nobly  sustain  her 
part  in  that  bloody  war  that  added  to  our  limits  the  vast 
region  comprised  in  the  State  of  California,  and  the  Ter- 
ritories of  Arizona,  New  Mexico,  Colorado  and  Utah? 
Shall  the  Southern  people,  whose  friends  and  kindred, 
whose  fathers  and  brothers,  laid  down  their  lives  on  the 
blood-stained  fields   of   Palo    Alto,    Resacca    De    La 


48  COLONEL   GACHET  DISCOURSES  POLITICALLY. 

Palma,  and  Buena  Vista,  who  offered  up  their  lives  so 
freely  in  their  country's  cause  before  the  walls  of  Mont- 
erey and  Churubusco,  and  on  the  heights  of  Chapultepec, 
shall  they,  I  say,  be  denied  the  common  protection  of 
the  law,  when  they  move  their  property  into  this  con- 
quered territory  ?     Do  you  call  that  justice  ?" 

"  You  forget.  Colonel,  that  many  of  the  most  promi- 
nent men  of  this  section  have  been  committed  to  the  doc- 
trine you  assail,  in  fact,  have  advocated  it  even  before 
the  acquisition  of  this  territory.  Your  own  Alex.  Steph- 
ens is  a  strong  believer  in  '  Squatter  Sovereignty.' 
We  Democrats  of  the  North,  aware  of  the  rapid  growth 
of  the  Republican,  or  Abolition  party,  think  that  a  con- 
servative course,  or  at  least  a  strict  adherence  to  past 
declarations  of  policy  the  best  and  safest  at  present." 

''  That  is  an  erroneous  idea.  The  stronger  grows  the 
Abolition  party,  the  more  determined  we  should  be  in 
demanding  what  is  justly  our  due.  We  must  meet 
threats  with  defiance,  and  injustice  with  louder  demands 
for  our  rights.  It  is  not  because  that  we  are  pressed 
for  room  —  that  we  have  not  now  enough  land  on  which 
to  employ  our  slaves,  for  there  are  large  tracts  in  Flor- 
ida, Arkansas  and  Texas,  aye,  in  Alabama,  Mississippi 
and  Louisianna,  not  yet  occupied ;  but  it  is  the  principle 
involved.  All  that  we  demand  is  equal  rights  and  equal 
protection  under  the  laws.  '  Squatter  Sovereignty'  does 
not  give  us  this,  and  therefore  we  repudiate  it.  Would 
you  have  the  bloody  scenes  in  Kansas  re-enancted  in 
every  territory  ?  Would  you  force  us  to  protect  our- 
selves with  arms,  and  produce  a  state  of  partisan  war- 
fare throughout  the  vast  AYest  ?  " 

"  Why,  Colonel,"  interposed  Mr.  Martin,  '*  to  hear 
you  talk  one  would  think  you  intended  moving  into  one 
of  the  Territories  to-moiTow,  when  we  all  know  that  you 
will  never  leave  Belleview." 

"It  is  the  gross  injustice  they  wish  to  perpe- 
trate on  the  South  that  excites  my  indignation.  You 
people  of  the  North,  Mr.  Wyndship,  have  a  very  faint 
conception  of  Southern  character.  We  cannot  quietly 
submit  while  being  deprived  of  our  rights,  neither  can 
we  put  up  with  officious  interferences  with  oiu-  personal 
affairs.     It  stirs  our  bile." 

''  Even  if  the  wrongs  and  interferences  are  imaginary," 
again  suggested  Mr.  Martin. 


BELLEVIEW.  49 

**  Imaginary  wi'ongs  are  sometimes  as  exasperating  as 
real  ones,"  remarked  AVyndship. 

"  Call  them  imaginary  if  you  will,  still  the  stini?  is 
there.  But  they  do  not  seem  very  fanciful  to  me.  Sup- 
pose we  were  to  treat  3'ou  lil^ewise,  and  deny  you  the 
protection  of  the  law  for  3'our  horses,  your  mules,  your 
herds  of  cattle  and  sheep  when  you  drive  them  within 
the  limits  of  a  slave  State  ?  Suppose  we  were  to  place 
under  a  similar  ban  the  articles  of  merchandise  that  you 
_  manufacture  and  ship  us  in  trade  ?  " 

"  Such  things  are  recognized  as  property  everywhere, 
slaves  are  not." 

"  The  Constitution  recognizes  them  as  property,  and 
that  is  tha  supreme  law  of  the  land." 

''Besides,"  continued  Vryndship,  ''it  is  sometimes 
best  to  forego  some  of  our  rights,  that  we  may  safely  se- 
cure the  remainder." 

"A  most  en-oneous  and  pernicious  doctrine.  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy  in  politics  as  well  as  in  business,  and 
the  true  statesman  will  never  sacrifice  one  jot,  or  tittle  01 
principle  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  it  is  good  policy. 
Again,  you  do  not  understand  us  on  the  question  of 
slavery.  You  think  that  we  are  wedded  to  the  system 
as  it  exists  among  us  at  present,  when  such  is  not  the 
case.  Many  of  our  deepest  thinlvers  are  eagerly  looking 
forward  to  the  time  when  we  can  institute  reforms,  and 
make  some  radical  changes  in  its  present  features." 

"  What  changes  do  you  regard  as  desirable  ?"  asked 
the  young  man,  his  curiosity  excited. 

"  One  change  that  I  regard  as  desirable  and  that  I 
would  gladly  see  made  at  an  early  day,  is  the  ti'ansfei- 
ing,  or  rather  modifying  their  status  as  property,  so  as 
to  attach  them  to  the  land  instead  of  the  person  of  their 
owners." 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  idea." 

"  Well  —  to  make  it  clearer  —  they  should  cease  to  he 
personal  property,  and  instead  of  belonging  to  their 
owners  absolutely,  just  as  they  now  do,  like  any  other 
personal  property,  I  would  have  them  attached  to  the  es- 
tate or  plantation  on  which  they  live,  depriving  the 
owner  of  the  right  to  sell  or  separate  them  therefrom 
without  their  consent.  As  an  illustration,  take  my 
plantation  and  my  negroes.  I  would  so  change  the 
present  law  so  that  these  negroes,  instead  of  belonging 


50  COLONEL   GACHET  DISCOUHSES   POLITICALLY. 

to  me  as  personal  property,  should  belong  to  the  land  on 
.vhich  they  live,  and  I  should  have  no  power  to  sell  or 
remove  them  except  by  legal  process  with  their  con- 
sent." 

''  What  do  you  mean  by  legal  process,  Colonel?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Martin.  "Forced  sale  under  execution  for 
debt,  administrator's  sale,  and  such  like?" 

"No  sir;  they  should  not  be  subject  to  execution  at 
all ;  neither  should  an  administrator  sell  them  except  as 
appurtenances  to  the  land.  I  mean  by  legal  process  that 
their  consent  to  the  sale  or  romoval  must  be  clearly  as- 
sured by  legal  means  just  as  in  some  states  a  homestead 
or  real  estate  acquired  through  a  wife,  cannot  be  sold 
without  the  wife's  consent  being  ascertained  by  a  notary 
public,  separate  and  apart  from  her  husband.  Deeds 
of  conveyance  without  her  signature  and  without  her 
consent  being  thus  proven,  are  null  and  void.  So  should 
it  be  with  every  sale  of  negroes  ;  their  consent  must  first 
be  ascertained  by  a  magistrate  while  the  master  or  seller 
is  out  of  the  way." 

"  What  advantages  to  the  negro  will  be  derived  from 
the  change?"  asked  Wyndship. 

"Several;  but  the  most  important  will  be  the  abol- 
ishment of  the  slave  traffic.  The  trader  or  speculator 
who  buys  and  sells  negroes  just  as  he  would  horses, 
mules,  or  other  live  stock,  would  find  his  occupation 
gone,  or  so  restricted  that  it  would  no  longer  be  a  profit- 
able business.  It  would  stop  the  breaking  of  family  ties,  the 
separation  of  husband  and  wife,  of  parents  and  children. 
It  would  give  to  every  slave  the  assurance  of  a  perma- 
nent home,  and  relieve  him  of  the  dread  of  a  forced  sep- 
aration from  those  he  loved.  It  would  give  him  an  in- 
terest in  the  Foil  he  cultivates,  encourage  him  in  adding 
comforts  to  his  household,  and  adornments  to  his  humble 
cabin." 

"  In  other  words,  it  would  benefit  him  just  so  much, 
as  it  is  a  step  towards  freedom." 

"  It  would  benefit  him  vastly  more  than  would  eman- 
cipation, for  which  he  is  totally  unfit.  He  would  still 
have  a  master's  watchful  care,  still  be  under  those  re- 
straints so  absolutely  necessary  to  the  African's  welfare. 
If  this  reform  was  instituted,  the  greatest  —  I  may  say 
the  only  reasonable  objection  to  our  system,  would  be 
removed ;    and  the  negroes  of  the   South  would  be  the 


BELLEVIEW.  51 

happiest,  their  lot  the  most  enviable  of  any  class  of  la- 
borers in  the  "world,  and  far  superior  to  that  of  the  fac- 
tory hands  of  the  North." 

"  Still,  you  never  could  convince  the  latter  that  such 
was  the  case,  or  induce  them  for  one  moment  to  ex- 
change situations." 

*'  Possibly  not ;  but  that  -would  not  alter  the  fact.  Not 
many  of  us  know  what  is  best  for  our  good,  or  even  when 
we  do,  are  always  willing  to  obtain  it  by  the  sacrifice  of 
our  false  pride.  But  think  for  a  moment  what  great  ad- 
vantages our  negroes  would  possess.  First,  they  would 
have  permanent  homes,  from  which  they  could  not  be 
alienated  without  their  consent  —  your  factory  hands 
have  none.  Secondly,  they  would  have  their  food,  their 
clothing,  all  their  necessities  supplied  without  the  least 
anxiety  or  mental  worry  as  to  the  source  from  which  it 
comes ;  while  your  factory  hands  are  never  free  from 
that  harrowing  nightmare,  loss  of  employment.  Thirdly, 
they  would  be  cared  for  when  sick,  medical  attention  and 
medicines  furnished  free,  and  with  a  master  and  mistress 
interested  in  their  welfare,  to  see  that  they  do  not  suffer 
for  careful  nursing ;  while  sickness  of  self  or  family, 
with  your  so-called  free  laborers,  means  suffering,  desti- 
tution, the  public  hospital,  the  poor  house,  and  possibly 
a  much  worse  fate  than  even  that.  Now,  in  what  particular 
would  their  situation  be  better  than  that  of  our  negroes? 
What, great  blessings  does  their  boasted  freedom  bring 
them  that  will  overbalance  all  these  advantages  that  I 
have  enumerated?" 

''  The  blessings  of  hope,  Colonel.  The  opportunity  of 
gratifying  that  ambition  to  climb  higher,  which  is  a  pre- 
dominant trait  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  mind.  The  hope  of 
one  day  being  more  than  a  mere  laborer ;  of  acquiring 
property  for  the  benefit  of  their  families  ;  of  being  able 
to  educate  their  children  and  start  them  in  life  on  a 
higher  plane  than  they  begun." 

"  I  admit,  that  while  it  lasts,  hope  produces  great 
pleasure,  but  it  is  short  lived  and  evanescent,  and  sooner 
or  later  it  dies,  leaving  its  dupe  only  the  greater  misery 
for  having  once  possessed  it.  To  say  the  least,  it  is  a 
very  poor  substitute  for  the  real  and  solid  advantages  I 
have  enumerated." 

''  1  don't  know  about  that.  It  is  better  to  have  hope 
and  lose  it,  than  never  to  have  hope  at  all.     I  cannot 


52  COLONEL    GACHET   1>ISC0URSES    POLITICALLY. 

imagine  a  more  miserable  existence  than  one  destitute  of 
aU  faith." 

"  That,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  "  is  owing  to  the' individual 
or  class.  Doubtless  you  could  not  live  without  it,  and  if 
the  negro  race  had  the  same  aspirations  thr.t  animate 
you  for  something  better  and  higher,  their  lives  would 
indeed  be  miserable  ;  and  no  matter  what  improvements 
might  be  made  in  their  condition,  they  would  never  be 
contented  and  happy  as  slaves.  But  to  the  contrary,  my 
observation  teaches  me  that  they  are  happier  tlian  their 
masters  ;  consequently  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  they 
are  not  dependent  on  that  kind  of  faith  for  their 
pleasures." 

"Yes,"  said  Col.  Gachet,  "there  is  where  the  ab- 
olitionists make  a  mistake  in  their  deductions.  They 
persist  in  assmning  that  the  African  race  possesses  the 
same  intelligence,  temperament  and  desires,  as  the  white, 
whereas  they  are  entirely  different,  and  are  not  governed 
by  the  same  rules.  No  greater  curse  could  befall  them 
than  the  sweeping  emancipation  advocated  by  the  would- 
be  philanthropist  of  New  England." 

"  I  am  too  utterly  ignorant  of  the  negro  to  express  an 
opinion  of  his  mental  and  moral  characteristics.  But 
speaking  of  the  Abolitionist,  Colonel,  1  think  you  misap- 
prehend their  true  motives.  The  majority  of  that  party 
are  not  prompted  so  much  by  the  desire  to  better  the 
negro's  condition,  as  b}^  the  fear  of  having  to  come  in 
competition  with  him  in  the  fields  of  labor.  Their  object 
is  more  to  keep  him  at  a  distance,  than  to  free  him. 
That  is  why  I  think  the  Southern  Democrats  are  making 
a  mistake  in  their  demands." 

"  No,  sir.  We  are  making  no  mistake.  "We  are  only 
demanding  what  is  justly  our  due,  and  as  for  myself,  I 
would  rather  sacrifice  all  I  possess,  than  yield  one  iota  of 
the  principle  involved.  I  have  lived  happily  under  the 
United  States  government,  I  have  worn  its  uniform,  and 
fought  beneath  its  flag  ;  I  have  gloried  in  its  past  grand 
achievements,  and  in  its  magnificent  promises  for  the 
future  ;  but,  when  it  refuses  to  me  and  to  my  neighbors, 
those  rights  and  privileges  which  its  Constitution  most 
sacredly  guarantees  that  we  shall  have,  then  I  am  for  se- 
cession—  revolution  —  war  to  the  bitter  end,  if  need  be." 

"  Oh,  politics,  politics  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Martin,  who 


BELLEVIEW.  53 

had  returned  to  the  porch.  "Do  gentlemen  never  talk 
of  anything  else  ?  *' 

"In  the  presence  of  ladies,  yes,"  responded  the 
Colonel,  with  a  gallant  bow  and  a  complete  change  of 
tone. 

"  Politics  is  said  to  be  as  necessary  to  masculine  en- 
joyment as  the  fashions  are  to  the  fairer  sex,"  said 
Wyndship,  laughingly. 

"Your  comparison  is  very  inaccurate,  sir,"  retorted 
the  lady,  "  for  I  assure  you  we  sometimes  talk  on  other 
subjects  than  fashion,  while  it  is  a  rare  occasion  indeed 
when  gentlemen  forsake  their  hobby." 

"  That  shows  the  greater  consistency  of  the  sterner,  or 
rather,  superior  sex,"  suggested  her  better-half,  dryly. 

For  an  answer,  she  turned  her  back  on  her  liege  lord, 
and  changed  the  conversation  by  inquiring  after  the 
health  of  the  ladies  at  Belleview,  and  how  much  Miss 
Owens  had  been  benefited  by  her  visit  to   Tennessee. 

"Very  much,  indeed,"  answered  Col.  Gachet.  "I 
tell  her  she  looks  as  healthy  and  robust  as  the  tj^Dical 
mountain  girl,  and  that  no  one,  seeing  her  now  for  the 
first  time,  would  believe  but  what  she  had  been  running 
bare-footed  over  the  rocks  all  her  life." 

His  buggy  having  returned,  he  arose  to  leave,  and 
after  bidding  Mr.  and  Mrs.  IMartin  good  evening,  he 
turned  to  the  young  man,  and  said  : 

"  Mr.  Wyndship,  I  have  enjoyed  our  little  discussion 
immensely,  and  hope  I  will  have  an  opportunity  of  re- 
newing it  at  some  other  time.  You  must  visit  us  at 
Belleview.  Come  some  Saturday,  and  you  shall  have  an 
opportunity  of  studying  the  slavery  question,  and  the 
negi'o  character  and  condition,  by  personal  observation. 
I  assure  you  I  will  hide  not  a  single  chain,  not  a  single 
blood-stained  whip,  or  fetter." 

"  Are  you  a  prophet,  or  the  son  of  a  prophet?  "  asked 
Wyndship  of  his  host,  after  their  caller  had  passed  out 
of  the  gate. 

"  How  gratifying  to  our  self-appreciation  to  be  able  to 
say,  '  I  told  you  so  !  " 

"  His  self-appreciation  was  easily  gratified,  Mr. 
Wyndship,"  said  Mrs.  Martin,  lightly.  "  It  did  not  take 
much  prophetic  ken  to  foretell  such  natural  consequence." 

"  I  acknowledge  that  I  was  somewhat  surprised  by  his 
suavity  and  his  invitation," 


5i  WYNDSHIP   OPENS    HIS    SCHOOL. 

' '  Why  ?  Is  it  not  customary  for  people  to  invite  others 
to  their  homes  in  your  State  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  I  did  not  expect  it  from  so  great  a  per- 
sonage as  Col.  Gachet." 

Mrs.  Martin  looked  at  him  wonderingly  for  a  moment 
before  replying. 

* '  I  expect  3'ou  had  better  prepare  yourself  for  a  good 
many  surprises." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

IN    WHICH     WYNDSHIP     OPENS     HIS    SCHOOL MAKES    SOME 

ACQUAINTANCES AND  ACCEPTS  AN  INVITATION. 

On  the  following  Monday  morning,  Wyndship  opened 
his  school  with  much  better  attendance  than  he  expected 
after  Mr.  Slaton's  defection,  and  during  the  week  was 
exceedingly  busy  examining  his  pupils  and  arranging 
them  in  classes  according  to  their  proficiency  and  ad- 
vancement. It  did  not  take  him  long  to  discover  that 
jMajor  Dismukes  was  not  far  wrong  in  his  ideas  of  needed 
reforms.  A  large  j^roportion  of  the  text-books  they 
brought  were  rather  obsolete,  such  as  had  been  discarded 
net  only  in  the  North,  but  in  all  well-established  institu- 
tions of  learning.  In  addition  to  this,  their  variety 
amazed  him.  No  regular  system  had  ever  been  adopted 
in  Georgia,  and  as  each  teacher  before  him  had  a  pref- 
erence for  a  certain  kind,  and  had  introduced  that  kind 
as  far  as  they  were  able,  he  found  that  nearly  every  pupil's 
books  were  different  from  the  other's.  To  have  as  many 
classes  as  there  were  different  books  was  entirely  out  of 
the  question,  and  it  was  not  the  smallest  part  of  his  la- 
bors to  induce  the  parents  to  purchase  again.  It  was 
too  expensive,  they  claimed,  to  be  buying  new  books  for 
every  new  teacher.  "Parson  Pruette  had  to  have  a 
different  kind,  and  Dr.  Jones  before  him,  and  so  did 
Smith ;  and  now  this  new  Yankee  teacher  must  throw 
them  all  aside  and  have  them  go  and  buy  new  ones." 
Wyndship,  however,  was  ably  seconded  by  the  two 
trustees,  and,  persevering  in  his  efforts,  gradually  began 
to  bring  order  out  of  the  chaos.  But  this  was  not  his 
only  trouble  ;  the  school  at  Somerville  had  never  known 
what   good  management    and  strict  discipline    meant. 


BELLEVIEW*  55 

The  government  of  his  predecessors,  he  discovered,  had 
been  of  a  loose  and  unstable  character,  generating  habits 
among  the  children  not  conducive  to  application  or  good 
behavior.  Determined  to  earn  his  salary,  he  put  all  his 
energy  in  the  work  before  him  of  thoroughly  establish- 
ing his  authority  over  the  little  empire  placed  under  his 
control.  The  docility  and  intelligence  of  the  pupils  wore 
fully  up  to  the  average  of  other  communities,  and  be- 
coming imbued  with  the  spirit  and  ambition  of  the 
teacher,  the  improvement,  both  in  discipline  and  in  les- 
sons, soon  became  noticeable  to  a  marked  extent. 

The  opposition  of  Mr.  Slaton  also  contributed  to  suc- 
cess in  a  manner  not  intended  by  that  gentleman.  In 
justification  of  his  course,  and  in  order  to  ruin  an  enter- 
prise he  could  not  control,  he  spread  the  report  through 
the  neighborhood  "  that  the  Yankee  teacher  was  an  Abo- 
litionist." This  would  have  had  a  disastrous  effect  had 
it  not  been  promptly  denied  by  Mr.  Harley,  Major  Dis- 
mukes  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Martin.  As  it  Tv'as,  the  better 
and  more  influential  citizens,  perceiving  the  spirit  that 
animated  the  traducer,  and  the  evident  eflorts  of  the 
young  man  to  do  his  duty,  rallied  to  his  support,  not 
only  giving  him  encouragement,  but  also  a  friendly  and 
hospitable  reception  wherever  he  went.  A  nevf  in- 
terest was  excited  in  the  school,  and  its  patrons  began  to 
discuss  the  questions  among  themselves  why  they  could 
not  establish  a  college,  or  high  school,  at  least,  and 
thereby  save  much  of  the  large  sums  j^early  sent  to  ]\Ia- 
con,  Athens,  and  other  places,  in  payment  of  their  child- 
ren's board.  The  location  of  Somerviile,  they  argued, 
was  high  and  salubrious ;  its  seclusion  and  remoteness 
vnis  in  its  favor,  as  there  was  nothing  to  distract  the  stu- 
dents' attention  from  their  studies,  and  moreover,  was 
free  from  the  tem.ptations  to  the  young  that  abound  in 
larger  places.  This  ended  only  in  discussion,  however, 
swallowed  up  in  the  greater  and  more  absorbing  question 
that  soon  commanded  their  undivided  attention. 

Vfyndship's  new  home  proved  to  be  fully  as  pleasant 
as  he  anticipated,  and  the  subject  of  a  boarding  place 
was  not  revived.  His  host  and  liostess,  though  old  in 
years,  had  not  lost  all  interest  in  the  matters  that  usually 

comm^and  j^oung  people's  attention.     The  lady,   in  par- 
ticular, had  the  rare  and  hcppy  faculty  of  sympathizing 

with  them  in  all  their  pursuits,  ambitions  and  every-day 


66  WTNDSmp   OPENS   HIS    SCHOOL. 

matters,  and  of  entering  heart  and  soul  into  theii*  plans 
of  innocent  amusement — in  short,  was  one  of  those 
blessed  women  who  never  grow  old.  Besides  this,  she 
felt  that  her  boarder's  separation  from  his  mother  and 
sister,  was  a  serious  bereavement,  and  that  he  deserved 
and  was  entitled  to  all  the  consolation  she  could  give  ; 
that  it  was  her  duty  to  make  her  house  a  pleasant  home, 
and  to  guard  him  against  all  attacks  of  homesickness. 

Nor  was  the  company  of  Mr.  Martin  less  entertaining 
than  that  of  his  wife.  Sensible  and  matter-of-fact  in 
his  character,  still  his  mind  was  not  of  that  solid  kind 
upon  which  the  incidents  and  experiences  of  life 'fall  like 
a  di'op  of  rain  on  a  rock,  leaving  no  visible  impression 
whatever.  The  eyes,  ears  and  mem.ory  with  which  na- 
tuie  had  endowed  him  had  been  put  to  good  use  in  the 
past,  and  now  he  felt  no  temptation  to  hide  his  light  un- 
der a  bushel.  Time  had  mellowed  the  jovial  good  hu- 
mor of  youth  without  adding  the  least  flavor  of  acidity ; 
had  enriched  instead  of  impovering  his  store  of  informa- 
tion ;  had  broadened  instead  of  naiTowiug  his  views  and 
opinions  ;  thus  making  his  conversation  peculiarly  enter- 
taining to  a  young  man  of  W^mdship's  temperament. 

But  the  latter  did  not  avail  himself  of  the  pleasure  of 
then-  companionship  to  the  full  extent  in  his  power.  Al- 
though he  had  successfully  passed  a  legal  examination, 
and  had  received  a  license  which  gave  him  the  right  to 
practice  law,  still  he  himself  was  not  satisfied  with  his 
proficiency.  Natm^al  diffidence  caused  him  to  depreciate 
his  own  attainments  as  well  as  his  ability,  and  at  the 
same  time,  ambition  prevented  him  from  being  satisfied 
with  mediocrity.  He  made  it  a  rule  to  retire  to  his  room 
at  a  certain  hour  every  evening,  and  to  spend  so  many 
hours  in  study,  and  no  ordinary  circumstance  was  al- 
lowed to  interfere  with  this  rule.  All  other  duties,  such 
as  pertained  to  his  school,  and  even  his  regular  letters 
home,  were  attended  to  during  the  hours  usually  allotted 
to  recreation  and  amusement,  and  the  evenings  after  sup- 
per were  devoted  to  Blackstone  and  Chitty  and  other  le- 
gal luminaries,  varied  only  by  the  study  (almost  as  dry) 
of  Supreme  Court  decisions,  and  of  the  records  of  such 
celebrated  cases  as  he  could  obtain.  By  this  means  he 
hoped  to  familiarize  himself  with  all  the  details  and 
crooked  by-paths  of  the  profession — with  all  the  intri- 
cate and  tangled  meshes  of  procedures,  demun-ers,  mo- 


JiELLEVIEW.  57 

tions,  special  pleas,  et  al  without  end,  which,  like 
veritable  spider-webs,  are  woven  in  profuse  prodigality 
around  the  supposed  altar  of  justice,  to  catch  those  un- 
wary human  flies  who  imagine  that  they  are  in  need  of 
legal  equity.  His  want  of  self-confidence  made  him 
doubtful  of  himself,  and  he  was  determined  to  make 
good  any  deficit  by  a  liberal  use  of  midnight  oil.  That 
"  first  care  "  and  "maiden  effort,"  of  which  there  was 
no  present  prospect,  hung  like  a  dark  and  threatening 
cloud  over  the  future  of  his  anticipations,  producing 
most  unreasonable  forebodings  of  disaster.  He  knew 
of  but  one  way  to  prepare  for  the  first  and  to  avoid  the 
latter,  and  that  was  by  hard  study. 

This  was  a  severe  regime  for  a  young  man  —  after  the 
tedious  worrying,  and  exhausting  labors  of  the  schoolroom 
(for  he  never  abated  his  efforts  there) ,  to  spend  the  major 
part  of  his  hours  for  rest  and  recreation  in  so  dry  and 
uninteresting  a  study  —  one  that  few  native  Georgians 
could  have  been  induced  to  adopt.  But  Wyndship  pos- 
sessed his  full  share  of  Yankee  ambitions,  with  none  of 
the  proverbial  "Yankee  brass  and  assurance." 

As  he  returned  from  school  one  afternoon  during  the 
first  week,  he  found  Carlos  in  front  of  the  gate  holding 
a  couple  of  horses,  both  of  which  bore  ladies'  saddles. 
He  was  about  to  question  the  boy  as  to  what  it  meant, 
when  the  music  of  the  piano,  mingled  with  a  voice 
singing,  through  the  open  windows  of  the  parlor,  told 
him  that  Mrs.  Martin  had  company.  That  lady  met  him 
in  the  hall,  and  over-raling  all  his  objections,  made  him 
enter  the  room.  She  introduced  him,  first  to  "Miss 
Gachet,"  and  then,  turning  to  a  young  lady  at  the  piano, 
to  "  Miss  Owens." 

"  I  believe,"  replied  the  latter,  pleasantly,  "  that  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  Wyndship  on  the  after- 
noon of  my  return  home." 

^  Our  young  friend  had  entered  the  room  rather  against 
his  will.  During  his  past  life  his  indulgence  in  the 
pleasures  of  female  society  had  been  limited,  and  he  had 
never  developed  any  of  the  characteristics  of  a  "  ladies' 
man."  Moreover,  he  had  taken  up  an  idea  that  these 
two  belonged  to  that  exclusive  class  who  hold  themselves 
aloof  and  above  young  men  in  his  position,  consequently 
it  was  with  a  good  deal  of  embarrassment,  and  with  a 
convictionof  his  own  awkwardness,  that  he  bowed  before 


58 


WYNDSHIP   OPENS   HIS    SCHOOL. 


them,  heartily  wishing  at  the  moment  that  either  he  or 
they  were  somewhere  else.  Miss  Owens's  graceful 
acknowledgment  of  the  previous  introduction  made  him 
open  his  eyes,  and  recalled  some  of  his  lost  self-possession  ; 
then,  too,  Mrs.  Martin  came  quicldy  to  his  rescue, 
and  in  a  short  time  he  recovered  sufficiently  to  join  in 
the  conversation  that  followed.  Later  on,  he  grew  bold 
enough  to  petition  for  a  song,  and  although  the  occupant 
of  the  piano-stool  had  already  remarked  to  her  compan- 
ion that  it  was  growing  late,  she  unhesitatingly  complied 
with  the  request.  The  song  was  a  simple  Irish  melody, 
but  it  was  sung  with  great  sweetness  and  feeling — at 
least  he  thought  so,  for  now  there  had  come  a  complete 
revulsion  in  his  feelings.  Her  graceful,  unaffected  man- 
ner and  musical  voice  was  pleasing  his  fancy  as  much 
as  it  had  been  by  the  beauty  of  her  face  and  eyes. 

'*  I  expect  Mr.  Wyndship's  ear,"  she  said,  rising  from 
the  instrument,  ' '  has  been  too  highly  cultivated  to  be 
entertained  by  my  simple  songs." 

His  eager  and  rather  incoherent  expostulations  to  the 
contrary  caused  her  to  laugh  lightly  as  she  thanked  him 
for  his  compliments.  He  was  no  longer  wishing  himself 
in  "  Halifax"  as  he  accompanied  them  to  the  gate,  with 
something  lUie  the  regret  that  we  all  feel  at  the  loss  or 
ending  of  a  delicious  pleasure.  After  assisting  them  off, 
he  noticed  that  the  sun  had  gone  down,  and  instinctively 
looked  at  his  watch  to  see  if  it  was  too  slow,  causing 
him  to  retain  his  pupils  beyond  the  customary  hour. 
Time  had  flown  a  little  faster  than  it  did  in  the  company 
of  the  great  Blackstone. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  the  'Magnolia  and  Cape 
Jesamine'  of  Belleview  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Martin,  as  they 
turned  back  towards  the  house.'* 

''The  what?" 

"  The  '  Magnolia  and  Cape  Jessamine  of  Belleview' 
— that  is  what  they  are  sometimes  called — the  two 
young  ladies,  I  mean." 

"  Oh  !  pardon  my  stupidity — I  did  not  understand  at 
first.  They  are  both  very  beautiful.  After  a  moment's 
silence,  he  continued  enthusiastically :  "  Did  you  ever 
see  anything  more  lovely  than  that  golden-haired,  meny- 
ej^ed  girl,  dressed  in " 

"  In  what?" 

"  AYell — really,    I   don't   know  —  it    was    something 


BEtLKVIEW.  59 

light.  Which  of  the  flowers  is  she  supposed  to  repre- 
sent?" 

"  The  Cape  Jesscimine." 

"Then  it  must  be  a  lovely  flower.  I  should  have 
called  them  the  red  and  white  roses,"  he  added,  after  a 
moment's  pause. 

"  You  must  not  lose  your  heart  to  Mollie,"  she  said, 
watching  him  rather  closely.  "  She  has  been  Charley 
Hurst's  sweetheart  ever  since  they  were  little  children. 
Charley  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,  and  I  must  take  care 
of  his  interests." 

"So  it  is  hands  off,"  he  replied,  with  a  laugh,  which  was 
speedily  ended,  however.  "  I  shall  take  care  not  to  do 
so  foolish  a  thing  as  that  —  I  know  too  well,  the  dis- 
tance supposed  to  be  between  Colonel  Gachet's  daughter 
and  a  poor  Yankee  teacher  like  myself,  to  presume  so 
much.  But  even  Mr.  Hurst  would  not  object  to  my  ad- 
miring his  inamorata  at  a  respectful  distance  — would 
he?" 

"Why  do  you  persist  in  talldng  such  nonsense? 
What  distance  can  there  between  you  ?  Only  that  which 
exists  in  your  own  imagination,  and  no  more.  I  gave 
the  warning  in  jest — well,"  as  if  correcting  himself,  "  I 
think  Charley  would  have  a  decided  advantage  over  any 
rival." 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  warning,  and  shall  not  forget 
that  both  the  Magnolia  and  Cape  Jesamine  have  been 
spoken  for." 

"  I  did  not  say  that  the' first  was." 

"  I  understood  that  she  was  allotted  to  her  guardian's 
son — young  Mr.  Gachet." 

"  The  family  have  that  match  very  much  at  heart,  I 
suspect,  but  that  is  no  sign  that  it  will  ever  come  to 
pass." 

"  The  very  best  of  signs,  I  should  think.  Doubtless 
Mr.  Gachet  is  handsome  and  clever." 

"  Very  handsome  and " 

"  And  then,  too,  he  has  the  advantage  of  his  family's 
influence." 

"  My  husband  would  saj",  that  owing  to  the  natural 
perverseness  of  our  sex,  that  would  be  a  disadvantage 
instead  of  assistance,"  answered  Mrs.  Martin,  lightly, 
as  they  re-entered  the  house. 

If  Mrs.  Martin  noticed  that  Wyndship  had  no  compli- 


60  WYNDSHIP  OPENS  HIS   SCHOOL. 

ments  to  pass  on  Miss  Owens,  she  gave  no  sign.  Prob- 
ably she  thought  that  silence  was  sometimes  more  ex- 
pressive than  words.  In  fact,  the  short  interview  had 
excited  his  admiration  for  both  young  ladies,  but  much 
more  for  the  latter  than  her  companion.  *  Deeper  im- 
pressions are  generally  the  hardest  to  analj^ze,  or  even 
to  understand ;  consequently  we  give  voice  to  the 
lighter  emotions,  while  stronger  ones  are  kept  to  our- 
selves, and  possibly  this  phenomenon  of  human  nature 
was  not  unknown  to  his  hostess.  The  day  before  she 
had  been  talking  of  taking  tea  with  the  Gachets  on  the 
next  Friday  evening,  and  had  invited  Wyndship  to  ac- 
company her  and  her  husband.  At  that  time  he  de- 
clined the  invitation  with  thanks,  pleading  as  an  excuse 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  lose  the  time  from  study — an 
excuse  that  she  refused  to  accept,  saying  that  she  did 
not  see  the  necessity  for  so  much  study,  and  thought  too 
much  was  worse  than  not  enough. 

With  the  usual  consistency  of  mankind,  he  had  now 
changed  his  mind,  and  no  longer  considered  the  loss  of 
one  evening  as  detrimental  to  his  future  career  as  a  law- 
yer. Secretly  he  longed  for  the  invitation  to  be  re- 
newed, resolving  not  to  be  ungracious  by  persistently 
refusing.  Now  this  was  not  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight 
—  at  least,  not  to  his  understanding — on  the  contrary, 
he  would  have  indignantly  scouted  the  idea,  that  he 
could  so  far  forget  his  self-respect  as  to  allow  his  heart 
to  become  entangled  by  the  fascinations  of  the  first  rich 
Southern  girl  he  met.  He  would  never  marry  above  him- 
self and  have  the  world  branding  him  with  the  offensive 
epithet  of  fortune-hunter.  Oh  no !  there  was  no  dan- 
ger of  his  falling  in  love,  he  was  not  ready  for  that  — 
could  not  yet  afford  such  a  luxury  —  but  having  seen  a 
beautiful  picture,  and  having  heard  some  delicious  mu- 
sic, he  simply  desired  a  repetition  of  the  pleasure — that 
was  all. 

But  his  landlady  did  not  seem  disposed  to  aid  him  in 
the  gratification  of  this  harmless  and  innocent  diversion. 
The  Friday  evening  tea  was  not  mentioned  again,  and 
when  the  day  came,  she  changed  from  her  original  inten- 
tion, spending  the  afternoon,  instead  of  the  evening,  at 
Belle  view.  When  he  inquired  as  to  the  cause  of  the 
change,  she  explained  that  as  he  would  not  accompany 
them,  she  thought  it  best  to  be  at  home  to  see  that  the 


belli:  VIEW.  61 

cook  did  not  cheat  him  out  of  his  supper.  The  truth 
was,  Mrs.  Martin  saw  thtit  "  viewing-  the  beautiful  pic- 
ture, and  listening  to  the  delicious  music"  was  a  more 
dangerous  amusement  than  he  imagined.  So  far  from 
being  the  match-maker  that  her  husband  had  jocularly- 
termed  her,  she  determined  not  to  be  the  means  of  lead- 
ing the  j^oung  man  Into  danger.  She  fully  appreciated 
Elma's  attraction,  suspected  Wyndship's  susceptibility, 
and  realized  the  possibility  of  the  latter's  losing  a  heart 
without  winning  one  in  return  ;  and  the  unhappiness  that 
would  thus  come  to  him,  must  not  come  through  any 
agency  of  hers. 

Although  he  remembered  the  invitation  that  Col. 
Gachet  had  so  graciously  extended,  he  did  not  like  to 
act  upon  it  without  some  other  excuse.  He  rather  con- 
sidered it  as  an  act  of  politeness,  with  no  expectation  of 
his  taking  it  as  it  was  literally  given,  and  he  could  not 
endure  the  thought  of  intruding  on  the  proud  and  aristo- 
cratic Southerner  when  there  was  the  least  doubt  of  his 
welcome.  If  he  could  not  match  the  Gaehets  in  wealth 
and  position,  he  could  in  pride,  at  least,  and  the  im- 
pressions he  had  formed  before  coming  South  had  not 
been  all  dispelled.  Even  in  youth  it  is  often  hard  to 
surrender  illusions  on  the  first  evidence  of  their  falsity. 
His  doubts  as  to  the  sincerity  of  the  invitation,  however, 
were  soon  settled. 

One  afternoon  during  the  following  week,  after  dis- 
missing school,  he  walked  down  to  the  post-office  to  get 
his  mail ; — there  he  met  the  Colonel,  w^ho  stopped  to 
shake  hands  and  pass  the  compliments  of  the  day. 
When  through  with  this,  the  latter  renewed  the  invita- 
tion in  such  a  way  that  there  could  be  no  reasonable  ex- 
cuse for  refusing. 

"I  want  you  to  come  out  to  Belleview  next  Saturday," 
he  said,  *'  and  take  a  ride  with  me  over  my  plantation. 
The  exercise  will  do  you  no  harm,  and  you  will  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  how  we  manage  our  slaves— in 
other  words,  will  give  you  a  chance  of  studying  the  '  in- 
stitution' by  personal  observation.     Will  you  come  ?" 

The  Colonel  was  evidently  in  earnest,  so  Wyndship 
replied  in  the  affirmative. 

''  We  should  start  early — say  half -past  seven,  at 
leasts  and  as  that  will  necessitate  your  leaying  Mr.  Mar- 
tin's before  their  usual  breakfast  hour,  you  had   better 


Cr2  -wnmsmp  ope-n^s  his  school. 

take  that  meal  with  iis.  Or,  what  is  better  still,  come 
out  on  Friday  afternoon  ;  I  can  send  for  you  then  jnst 
as  well." 

*'  That  will  not  be  necessary.  Mrs.  Martin  always 
has  breakfast  by  that  hour,  and  would  order  it  even 
sooner,  I  think,  should  it  be  necessary." 

"  Well,  I  will  send  early,  and  shmild  it  not  be  ready, 
come  on  to  Belleview  witliout  waiting.  We  can  supply 
you  with  a  cup  of  coffee,  at  least,  that  will  partly  atone 
for  the  loss  of  Mrs.  Martin's  delicacies.  ISIake  your  ar- 
rangements to  remain  over  night,  as,  I  dare  say,  you 
will  be  too  imich  fatigued  by  the  time  I  get  through  with 
you,  to  wish  to  return  that  evening.  Remember,  seven 
o'clock  you  may  expect  my  boy.'* 

The  human  heart  and  mind  are  full  of  strange  incon- 
sistencies. Wyndship  had  been  taught  that  the  society 
of  the  South,  particularly  the  older  portions,  of  which 
this  was  a  part,  was  dominated  by  an  arrogant,  purse- 
proud  aristocracy,  who  regarded  the  poor  as  little  better 
than  their  toiling  slaves  ;  and  that  this  feeling  was  par- 
ticularly bitter  against  impecunious  emigrants  from  the 
Northern  States.  That  if  they  deigned  to  notice  the 
latter  in  the  least,  it  was  only  an  act  of  condescension 
prompted  by  motives  of  policy.  He  had  come  to  this 
section,  determined  in  his  own  mind,  to  accept  none  of 
their  patronizing  civility  ;  to  hold  himself  aloof,  no  mat- 
ter at  what  cost  to  his  future  prospects,  or  what  sacrifice 
to  his  social  comfort.  The  Gachets  came  nearer  filling 
his  conception  of  what  this  aristocracy  was  than  any 
other  family  he  had  met ;  still  here  he  was,  within  two 
weeks  of  his  arrival,  gladly  accepting  an  invitation  to 
spend  a  day  and  night  within  the  exclusive  confines  of 
Belleview.  To  have  hinted  the  possibility  of  his  falling 
in  love  with  the  rich  Miss  Owens,  would  have  aroused 
his  indignation,  and  maybe  his  anger,  to  a  disagreeable 
extent ;  still  he  was  looking  forward  to  the  chance  of 
seeing  her  face  and  hearing  her  voice  again,  with  a  thrill 
of  pleasure  that  kept  the  proposed  visit  continually  in  his 
mind  during  the  intervening  da3^s  and  nights. 

On  the  other  hand.  Col.  Gachet  drove  away  in  his 
buggy  with  the  pleasing  consciousness  of  having  com- 
mitted an  act  of  graceful  courtesy  to  an  inferior.  He 
complimented  himself  on  showing  an  extremely  liberal 
spirit  in  thus  making  the  young  Yankee  teacher  the  recip- 


BELLEVIEW.  63 

icnt  of  so  much  condescension.  The  absence  of  wealth 
did  not  depreciate  the  latter  in  his  estimation — in  truth, 
he  disclaimed  all  superiority  over  others  on  that  account, 
and  sincerely  believed  in  his  own  consistency.  His 
standard  was  mental  and  moral  worth,  and  he  had  long 
since  convinced  himself  that  he  judged  others  by  these 
alone.  This  was  in  a  manner  true  ;  still  no  ordinary, 
nay,  no  possible  circumstance,  could  have  convinced  him . 
that  Wyndship  was  his  equal,  indeed,  as  to  that,  no  per 
son  ever  rose  that  high  in  his  estimation.  He  worshipped 
two  idols,  two  household  gods,  before  whose  shrine  he 
knelt  in  constant  devotion.  These  were:  first,  the 
greatness  of  the  Gachets  ;  and  secondly,  the  South  and 
its  institution  ;  and  no  strange  gods  ever  seduced  him 
from  his  allegiance.  This  idolatry,  as  far  as  the  first 
is  concerned,  was  not  peculiar  to  him  alone,  as  thous- 
ands of  every  country  and  of  every  class  worship  at  the 
same  altar. 

This  ruling  passion  of  the  Colonel's  character  was  not 
always  apparent  to  the  casual  observer.  The  polish  of 
cultivated  manners — that  politeness  that  was  so  neces- 
sary in  those  days  for  the  com.pleteness  of  a  Southern 
gentleman,  hung  like  a  veil  before  his  great  egotism, 
and  was  rarely  thrown  aside  except  on  occasions  when 
his  personal  importance  was  questioned.  Besides  this, 
he  felt  a  sincere  respect  for  the  rights  of  others,  as  he 
understood  them,  and  prided  himself  on  his  quick  per- 
ception of  merit  in  others.  This  merit  he  was  always 
ready  to  encourage  by  active  assistance  as  well  as  by 
the  light  of  his  noble  countenance.  He  was  satisfied, 
from  Wyndship's  appearance  and  recommiendations,  that 
he  was  a  young  man  of  moral  and  intellectual  worth, 
and  was  therefore  entitled  to  some  consideration  at  his 
hands ;  entitled  to  participate  in  the  benefits  arising 
from  personal  and  mental  association  ;  entitled  to  re- 
ceive some  rays  of  light  and  warmth  from  the  great  lum- 
inary of  Somerville. 

Nothing  produces  greater  pleasure  in  the  average  hu- 
man breast  than  to  convince  and  convert  others  to  our 
way  of  thinking  ;  a  pleasure  that  is  never  diminished  by 
the  fact  that  our  convert  is  of  more  than  average  intelli- 
gence. The  love  of  conquest,  so  prevalent  with  man* 
kind,  common  to  all  —  to  the  conquerer,  at  the  head  of 
his  army  —  to  the  orator,  swaying  the  multitude  by   his 


64  A   SOUTHERN    PLANTATION. 

eloquence  from  the  political  hustings,  or  the  sacrea  pul- 
pit— to  the  lawyer,  pleading  his  client's  case  before  a 
jury —  to  the  physician,  fighting  with  all  his  skill  for  the 
life  of  his  patient — to  the  radiant  coquette,  employing 
those  numberless  arts  of  eyes  and  lips  in  chaining  the 
hearts  she  cannot  accept — common  to  all  alilve,  was  also 
common  to  the  master  of  Belleview. 

Satisfied  of  the  correctness  of  his  own  views,  and  be- 
lieving that  the  young  man  had  some  erroneous  opinions, 
he  did  not  doubt  his  a]:)ility  to  convince  him  of  his  errors 
and  to  lead  him  into  the  light  of  truth.  What  better  or 
more  commendable  occupation  could  there  be  for  the 
employment  of  his  own  superior  faculties,  than  in  purg- 
ing the  taint  of  prejudice,  and  brushing  the  cobwebs 
of  ignorance  from  the  youthful  mind? 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A  SOUTHERN  PLANTATION. 

"  And  SO  you  spend  the  next  twenty-four  hours  at 
Belleview?" 

"  I  will  spend  the  day  there,  I  suppose,  but  don't 
know  about  the  night.  I  may  stay  until  after  tea. 
Can  I  gain  admittance  should  I  remain  late  ?" 

''  Oh  yes,  if  you  do  not  retm-n  by  oiu*  bed-time,  we 
will  leave  the  front  door  unlocked." 

"  That  will  be  a  great  sacrifice  for  your  pleasui'e,  Mr. 
Wyndship  — leaving  the  front  door  unlocked,"  said  Mr. 
Martin.  "  I  don't  think  it  has  been  in  any  other  con- 
dition for  years.  You  need  never  fear  giving  us  any 
trouble  by  coming  home  late  ;  a  front-door  lock  is  some- 
thing we  have  never  needed.  But  I  reckon  you  won't 
come  home  to-night." 

'MVhy?" 

"  Oh,  you  won't  be  able  to  tear  yourself  away  from 
the  presence  of  the  two  young  ladies  until  the  Colonel's 
boy,  Antoninus  Pius  (Tony  for  short) ,  lights  you  off  to 
bed.  In  fact,  I'm  wondering  if  I  won't  have  to  come 
after  you  to-morrow,  and  bring  you  away  by  main 
force." 

*'  You  need  not  be  uneasy,  your  services  in  that  capac- 


BELLEVIEW.  65 

ity  will  not  be  needed.  AVhile  I  am  willing  to  admit 
that  the  young  ladies  are  very  fascinating,  I  don't  think 
that  I  am  quite  that  susceptible.  Do  you,  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin?" 

"  I  hope  that  you  are  not  that — that  soft.  Mr.  Mar- 
tin is  judging  you  by  what  he  was  in  his  younger  days." 

"  Well !  that  beats  me,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Martin  in  mock 
despair.  ''  Who  ever  heard  of  the  like  !  Here  I  have 
been  living  with  a  woman  for  thirty  years — until  the 
winter  of  old  age  has  whitened  my  locks,  and  the  chisel 
of  time  has  cut  artistic  lines  all  over  my  handsome 
frontispiece  —  believing  all  the  while  that  I  commanded 
her  respect  and  reverence  ;  and  lo  and  behold,  at  this 
late  day,  she  tells  me  to  my  face  that  I  was  soft.  Was 
there  ever  a  fall  so  great?  Young  mac,  take  warning 
by  my  fate — see  what  humiliation  is  in  store  for  you 
should  you  ever  give  way  to  the  tender  passion." 

"But  they  say  love  is  like  the  measles,"  laughed 
Wyndship  ;    "we  must  all  have  it." 

"  I  did  intend  giving  you  some  hints  as  to  how  you 
should  comport  yourself  to-day,  but  my  self-love  has  been 
so  cruelly  wounded  that  I  haven't  the  heart  to  begin." 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Wyndship,  that  I  have  lost  you 
such  excellent  advice." 

"Well,  madam,  if  you  will  allow  me  another  cup  of 
coffee,  and  put  in  an  extra  lump  of  sugar,  maybe  I  can 
recover  sufficiently  to  try.  It  is  very  important,"  he 
continued,  after  stirring  and  tasting  the  second  cup, 
"  that  you  make  a  good  impression  this  time,  for  you'll 
want  to  go  again.  There  will  be  no  babies  for  you  to 
kiss,  no  little  brother  or  sister  to  make  much  of,  so  you'll 
have  to  make  it  up  by  prudent  flattery  with  the  old  man. 
You  must  admh-e  everything  you  see — his  horses,  his  dogs, 
his  plantation,  his  negro  quarters,  and  particularly  his 
flowers.  That  will  make  you  solid  with  the  old  Colonel, 
and  as  to  the  young  ladies,  you  have  only  to  be  '  soft,' 
you  know,  to  win  with  them  — " 

"  Colonel  Cachet's  buggy  is  ter  de  gate  fer  Massa 
Wyndship,"  interrupted  Carlos,  from  the  hall. 

"  I  am  waiting  for  the  continuation  of  your  advice," 
said  the  young  man,  pushing  back  his  plate. 

"I  never  give  advice  hurriedly — it  is  too  important  a 
business.  You  might  misapprehend,  go  wi'ong,  and 
then  the  mischief  would  be  to  pay.     You  must  go  ahead 


66  A    SOUTHERN    PLAXTATION. 

now  and  trust  to  luck  ;  only  remember  that  being  '  soft' 
is  what  wins  with  the  girls." 

On  arriving  at  Belleview,  Wyndship  was  shown  into 
the  library  by  a  servant,  who  explained  that  the  family 
were  then  at  breakfast,  but  that  she  would  notify  her 
master  of  his  arrival. 

''  Tell  Colonel  Gaohet  not  to  let  this  interrupt  him, 
but  to  finish  his  meal." 

This  course,  however,  the  master  thought  derogatory 
to  his  character  as  a  courteous  gentlemen.  As  soon  as 
the  message  was  delivered,  he  hastened  to  greet  his 
guest. 

''  Mr.  Wyndship  !"  he  exclaimed,  with  extended  hand, 
"  you  are  the  very  soul  of  punctuality.  Surely,  you 
have  not  had  your  breakfast  ?" 

Our  hero  assured  him  that  he  had,  and  insisted  on  his 
returning  to  the  table  without  ceremony.  "  I  can  find 
plenty  of  entertainment  from  j^our  books  and  pictures 
here  for  a  much  longer  period  than  that  will  be." 

''  I  will  be  delighted  if  you  can  extract  any  amusement 
from  so  poor  a  collection,  and  hope  you  will  feel  per- 
fectly free  and  at  home.  It  will  take  me  but  a  few  min- 
utes to  finish  my  meal." 

In  a  few  minutes  his  daughter  entered  the  room,  and 
although  she  was  naturall}^  of  a  modest  and  retiring  dis- 
position in  the  presence  of  strangers,  she  exerted  herself 
to  entertain  their  guest,  and  they  Avere  soon  in  pleasant 
chat.     This  continued  until  the  return  of  her  father. 

"  Mr.  V^yndship,  I  expect  om-  morning's  jaunt  will 
rather  test  your  powers  of  endurance.  It  will  be  much 
more  convenient  for  us  to  get  about  over  the  plantation 
on  horseback  than  in  a  buggy,  and  if  you  do  not  object 
to  that  method  of  transit,  I  will  order  the  horses  saddled. 
If  you  prefer  the  buggy,  however,  we  will  take  it.  I 
understand  that  horsemanship  is  fast  becoming  one  of 
the  lost  arts  in  your  State." 

The  young  man  assured  him  that  he  had  a  slight 
knowledge  of  the  "  lost  art,"  and  that  nothing  would 
suit  him  better  than  a  morning's  ride. 

' '  I  know  that  you  will  be  terribly  bored,  and  would 
much  prefer  spending  the  day  with  your  books,  but  I 
have  set  my  heart  on  showing  you  over  my  little  domain, 
and  of  proving  to  you  tliat  the  condition  of  our  negroes 
is  much  )?etter  than  that  of   any  other  laborers   of   the 


BELLEVIEW.  (j  < 

same  class.  As  the  morning  will  be  the  pleasantest 
part  of  the  day,  we  will  get  ready  and  start  at  once." 

The  Colonel  was  perfectly  sincere  in  his  assertion 
about  the  condition  of  the  negroes,  and  this  belief  pre- 
vailed universally  among  the  slave-owners.  It  was  a 
doctrine  that  they  preached  on  all  occasions  when  the 
question  of  slavery  was  under  discussion,  and  when  we 
consider  the  peculiar  character  of  the  black  race,  it  was 
not  altogether  a  delusion.  Judging  by  appearances,  by 
the  high  animal  spirits  and  "  free  from  care  look"  of  the 
majority,  their  lot  was  not  so  unendurable  as  strangers 
might  suppose. 

Passing  around  by  the  stables,  they  rode  down 
through  the  "  quarter,"  the  open  doors  of  which  were 
generally  crowded  with  little  black  faces  watching 
^'  Massa  en  de  strange  gemman,"  while  more  than  one 
loud  voice  from  their  mothers  could  be  heard,  rebuking 
their  want  of  manners,  in  "  gazen'  at  de  white  fo'kes." 
At  the  farther  end  of  the  miniature  village,  a  little  black 
boy  opened  a  large  gate  which  admitted  them  into  an  en- 
closure that  seemed  once  to  have  been  a  cultivated  field, 
but  was  now  used  as  a  pasture.  It  was  grownup  in  old 
field  pines  and  broom  sedge  vvherever  there  was  soil 
enough  left  to  support  any  kind  of  vegetation.  The 
hillsides  were  washed  down  to  the  bare  red  clay,  fur- 
rowed here  and  there  with  immense  gullies,  plainly 
showing  that  no  efforts  had  ever  been  made  to  save  the 
light,  sandy  soil  from  the  ruinous  effects  of  semi-tropical 
rains.  Coming  to  another  large  gate  it  became  necessary 
for  one  of  them  to  dismount.  Thinking  that  his  fewer 
years  better  qualified  him  for  that  service,  Wyndship 
hastened  to  anticipate  his  host,  but  soon  found  that  he 
had  a  larger  job  on  his  hands  than  he  contracted  for. 
The  gate  w^as  without  a  latch,  but  was  secured  on  the 
other  side  by  some  invisible  means,  and  resisted  his  ef- 
forts to  push  it  open. 

"  Remove  the  peg,"  explained  the  Colonel.  "  Remove 
the  peg  from  the  post  on  the  inner  side." 

Reaching  through  the  bars  our  hero's  hand  at  length 
found  what  seemed  to  be  the  obstacles.  Pulling  out  an  iron 
pin,  evidently  not  made  for  the  service  it  was  perform- 
ing—  that  of  a  gate-latch,  by  being  thrust  into  an  auger 
hole  bored  into  the  post  —  he  once  again  attempted  to 
push  it  open.     This  time  it  reeled  out  at  the  top   like    a 


68  A    SOLTilERX    I  L  VNTATIOIn*. 

drunken  man,  but  held  to  its  position  at  the  bottom^ 
showing  that  only  one  hinge  was  assisting  it  in  the  per- 
formance  of   its  duty. 

"  You  will  have  to  lift  it,"  again  explained  the 
Colonel,  this  time  with  a  slight  suspicion  of  embarass- 
ment  in  his  voice.  "  Be  careful,  or  it  will  fall.  The 
lazy,  trifling  scamps  are  forever  breaking  down  my 
gates,  but  never  think  of  repairing  the  damage  until  or- 
dered to  do  so,"  he  added,  with  rather  more  strength 
than  elegance  in  his  tone. 

Placing  one  hand  under  a  slat,  and  steadying  it  witlj 
the  other,  Wyndship  lifted  the  refractory  gate  far  enough, 
open  to  admit  their  horses,  and  then  proceeded  to  shut 
it  in  the  same  way.  On  one  side,  in  a  corner  of  the  zig- 
zag rail  fence,  almost  hid  by  weeds,  lay  the  plow  to 
which  the  unique  gate-latch  belonged,  having  evidently' 
been  thrown  there  at  the  end  of  the  plowing  season  some 
months  before.  The  eyes  of  a  careful,  thrifty  farmer 
would  have  noticed  numerous  other  instances  of  waste 
and  neglect.  In  one  place  was  a  hoe,  by  a  stump  lay  a 
single  tree,  while  another  gate  was  secured  by  a  trace 
chain.  The  teacher's  past  life  had  not  been  such  as  to 
give  him  much  acquaintance  with  the  ' '  noble  art  of  hus- 
bandry," still  it  became  evident  to  him  that  Colonel 
Gachet  would  never  pass  for  a  model  farmer  according 
to  Pennsylvania  ideas. 

The  latter  soon  recovered  his  equanimit}^,  and  in  his 
courteous,  dignified  way,  began  expatiating  on  his  favor- 
ite theme.  No  one  could  doubt  his  sincerity,  and  while 
his  listener  was  much  less  interested  in  the  subject  than 
he  supposed,  still  his  conversation  did  not  prove  to  be 
tiresome.  They  visited  different  parts  of  the  plantation, 
where  different  kinds  of  work  were  going  on,  all  of 
which  was  performed  by  the  negroes  in  an  easy,  non- 
chalant manner,  which  indicated  that  their  owner  was 
not  an  exacting  task-master.  The  merry  laughter  and 
melodious  songs  which  greeted  their  ears  before  reaching, 
or  immediately  after  leaving  each  group,  did  not  tell  of 
that  heart-breaking  ciTielty  of  the  master,  and  utter  hope- 
less misery  of  the  slaves,  so  graphically  pictured  by  Mrs. 
Stowe.  Nor  were  there  any  evidences  of  their  being  on 
dress  parade  to  deceive  a  stranger —  actions  and  ap- 
pearfinces  were  too  natural  for  them  to  have  been  acting 
a  part  for  effect  under  the  orders  of  a   heartless   tyrant. 


BELLKVIEW.  69 

Moreover,  it  did  not  require  a  very  extended  acquaint- 
ance with  Colonel  Gachet  to  convince  any  ordinary 
judge  of  human  nature  that  he  was  not  the  kind  of  man 
for  such  a  subterfuge. 

Stopping  at  the  gin-house — the  old  fashion  kind,  run 
by  horse,  or  rather  mule  power — AVyndship  had  an  op- 
portunity of  examining  the  machine  invented  by  a  young 
Yankee,  who,  like  himself,  had  come  South  to  make  his 
fortune.  In  the  rear  of  the  building  was  a  structure 
which  he  found  still  more  unique  and  interesting  in  its 
appearance  —  a  structure  which  was  common  enough  in 
the  cotton  states  before  the  war,  but  which  has  been 
swept  away  by  the  ruthless  hand  of  progress  under  the 
new  order  of  things.  It  was  one  of  those  primitive 
wooden  screws  for  compressing  the  staple  into  bales, 
which  were  used  on  every  cotton  plantation  before  the 
introduction  of  the  smaller  and  more  symmetrical  iron 
press.  Built  of  timbers  cut  and  hewn  by  hand  from  the 
neighboring  forest,  supporting  a  huge  wooden  screw  in  a 
perpendicular  position,  it  reared  its  rough,  ungraceful 
form  full  thirty  or  forty  feet  above  the  ground.  At- 
tached to  the  lower  end  of  this  screw  was  a  heavy 
wooden  block,  which  fitted  into  an  oblong  square  bOx 
some  ten  feet  deep  —  the  receptacle  of  the  lint  cotton  to 
be  baled  —  and  this  block,  by  the  revolutions  of  the 
screw,  compressed  the  light  and  spongy  lint  into  the 
square,  compact  bale  of  commerce.  The  screw  was 
turned  either  in  its  downward  or  upward  course  by  two 
long  levers,  also  of  hewn  timber.  Meeting  above  its 
topmost  end,  to  which  they  were  secured  by  a  sliorter 
horizontal  beam,  they  formed,  with  the  ground  as  a 
base,  a  right-angled  triangle  ;  the  lower  ends  coming- 
down  close  to  the  ground  some  twent^^-five  feet  out  from 
the  foundation,  w^here  the  mules  which  were  ..sed  in  run- 
ning the  machine  had  worn  a  circular  path  or  track.  Our 
young  friend's  curiosity  to  see  it  in  operation  could  not 
be  gratified,  as  the  picking  was  not  yet  far  enough  ad- 
vanced for  the  ginning  to  commence,  consequently  he 
had  to  be  content  with  the  Colonel's  explanations. 

Here  again  were  evidences  of  improvident  and  care- 
less farming.  The  screw  and  gin-house  were  surrounded 
by  a  growth  of  rank  weeds  which  kept  the  bottom  tim- 
bers of  both  structures  damp  and  mildevred,  thereby  ac- 
celerating the  process  of  decay.     It   would   have   taken 


70  A    SOUTHERN    PLANTATION. 

the  Colonel's  **  hoe  gang"  but  a  few  minutes  each  month 
to  have  cleared  them  away,  so  that  the  sun  and  air  could 
have  dried  out  the  moisture,  thereby  adding  some  j^ears 
of  service  to  the  rotting  timbers.  All  of  one  side  of  the 
house  was  banked  up  by  a  huge  pile  of  rotting  cotton- 
seed—  in  fact,  the  rankness  of  the  weeds  all  about 
showed  the  stimulating  effects  of  this  valuable  fertilizer. 
No  work  could  have  been  more  profitable  on  the  planta- 
tion than  to  "  haul"  this  off,  and  spread  it  over  the  poor 
and  galled  hill-sides  whose  natural  fertility  was  about 
exhausted  ;  but  the  master  could  never  find  the  time  — 
or  what  is  more  probable,  would  never  think  of  it  when 
they  had  time  —  so  year  after  year  the  heap  of  rich  com- 
post grew  larger  and  larger,  giving  its  strength  to  the 
noxious  weeds  besides  being  a  grievous  eyesore  to  the 
lovers  of  neatness  and  order. 

Noon  found  them  in  the  field  where  the  "picking 
gang"  were  at  work,  and  just  at  that  hour  the  faint  notes 
of  a  horn  reached  their  ears  from  the  direction  of  the 
quarter.  Wyndship  would  not  have  noticed  it  but  for 
the  sudden  cessation  of  labor  with  the  slaves.  Each 
one  stopped  picking  at  once  and  commenced  shouldering 
their  sacks  and  baskets. 

"  That  horn,"  explained  the  Colonel,  "  is  the  signal 
for  twelve  o'clock,  and  stops  work  for  the  week — at 
least  for  me.  I  make  it  a  rule,  no  matter  what  condi- 
tion mj^  crops  or  plantation  affairs  are  in,  to  give  every 
Saturday  evening  as  a  half -holiday." 

"  AYhat  disposition  do  your  slaves  generally  make  of 
it?" 

"  Well,  in  various  ways.  I  allow  those  that  desire  it 
to  cultivate  a  small  patch  for  themselves,  and  the  more 
industriously  inclined  generally  spend  their  holiday  time  in 
that  manner.  They  plant  this  patch  in  cotton,  melons, 
rice,  or  other  kinds  of  produce  which  they  can  sell." 

"  Do  you  allow  them  free  use  of  the  money  they  ob- 
tain in  this  manner?" 

"  Certainly  I  do.  It  is  theirs  to  spend  in  any  way 
they  choose  —  that  is,  within  certain  restrictions,"  he 
added,  as  an  after- thought.  "  I  would  most  assuredly 
object  to  their  spending  it  for  whiskey,  for  instance." 

"  Have  you  ever  noticed  how  they  spend  it?" 

"  Sometimes,  although  I  have  never  made  it  a  poini 
to  find  out  unless  I  had  strong  reasons  to   suspect  that 


BELLEYIEW.  71 

they  were  putting  it  to  an  improper  use.  They  spend  it 
for  little  luxuries  to  eat  that  are  not  included  in  their 
weekly  rations,  or  little  fineries  of  dress,  etc. — each  one 
have  their  own  imaginary  wants,  you  know.  Their  ne- 
cessities are  all  supplied  by  myself,  consequently  they 
are,  in  a  manner,  free  to  consult  their  individual  tastes  and 
fancies.  Did  you  see  that  old  man  who  just  passed  us  with 
a  basket  on  his  shoulder?  Well,  he  will  make  this  year 
more  than  a  bale  of  cotton,  besides  several  bushels  of 
rice  on  his  ''  truck  patch."  The  rice  he  will  sell  to  the 
white  families  in  Soinerville,  and  the  cotton  will  be 
sent  to  Macon,  probably,  and  sold  with  mine.  About 
Christmas  he  will  draw  the  monej^  for  his  cotton,  and  go 
to  town,  on  what  his  mistress  calls,  "his  annual  shop- 
ping excursion." 

"  Do  all  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  ac- 
quire a  little  spending  money  in  that  way?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  they  do  not.  In  addition  to 
the  little  plat  of  ground,  whenever  there  is  any  work  to 
be  performed  on  the  plantation,  I  give  them  the  chance 
to  work  for  me,  paying  them  as  much,  or  more,  than  I 
could  hire  it  done.  As  an  illustration,  all  the  fall  during 
the  '  picking  season,'  I  will  pay  those  that  will  '  pick ' 
Saturday  afternoon,  at  the  rate  of  fifty  cents  per  one 
hundred  pounds.  A  few  of  them  will  neither  work  for 
me,  or  for  themselves,  but  spend  the  afternoon  in  sleepy 
indolence.  One  of  my  best  hands  has  a  perfect  mania 
for  fishing,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  dinner  horn  is  sounded 
on  Saturdays,  he  starts  for  the  river,  where  he  spends 
all  the  evening.  In  fact,  I  suspect  that  a  good  portion 
of  his  Sundays  is  spent  the  same  way.  If  he  was  a  free 
man,  I  do  not  believe  that  he  would  ever  do  anything 
else  than  fish.  Some  one,  in  a  jest,  nicknamed  him 
"  Black  Isaac  Walton,"  and  he  now  goes  by  the  name  of 
"  Black  Ike,"  altogether.  When  I  adopted  the  rule,  I 
intended  the  half  day  to  be  entirely  at  their  own  dis- 
posal, and  I  never  interfere,  unless  it  is  plainly  for  1Iie 
good  of  our  little  community,  prohibiting  no  occupation, 
or  amusement,  except  such  as  are  demoralizing  in  their 
tendencies.  My  neighbors,  I  understand,  sometimes 
criticise  my  methods,  and  say  that  I  am  a  bad  manager, 
but  when  I  give  my  negroes  a  holiday,  I  wish  it  to  be 
one  in  truth." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  he   resumed,  as  they  turned 


72  A    SOUTHERN    PLANTATION. 

home-wards,  "  I  have  shown  you  over  1113^  little  domaio  — 
my  little  kingdom,  for  each  plantation  is  a  state  in  min- 
iature —  and  I  dare  say,  have  tired  you  out  with  my  talk 
and  explanations." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  have  enjoyed  the  ride  very  much,  indeed, 
and  have  found  every  thing  I  have  seen  interesting." 

"  You  have  found  our  management,  and  the  condition 
of  our  slaves,  very  different   from  what  you  expected?  " 

"In  some  respects  —  yes." 

"  In  what  respect,  may  I  be  allowed  to  enquire? " 

"It  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  principle  with  you 
Georgians,  never  to  be  in  a  hurry  —  to  take  things  easy, 
and  that  principle  seems  to  dominate  in  the  cotton  fields, 
as  well  as  elsewhere." 

This  answer  was  not  exactly  what  the  Colonel  ex- 
pected, or  desired,  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
returned  to  the  charge. 

"  But  have  you  found  slavery  as  wicked  and  inhuman 
an  institution  as  you  anticipated  ?  " 

"Really,!  did  not  expect  to  behold  a  spectacle  of 
cold-blooded  brutality  when  I  came." 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  there  has  been  no  effort  made 
to  deceive  you  —  no  putting  on  of  the  best  bib  and  tucker 
to  hide  the  stains  beneath.  Just  as  you  have  found  mat- 
ters to-day,  just  so  they  are  every  day." 

"  I  am  satisfied  of  that.  Colonel.  Did  you  think  you 
had  got  hold  of  a  red-hot  Abolitionist  in  me  ?  One  of 
the  Thad  Stevens  kind?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  disclaimed  his  host,  with  some  embarrass- 
ment, "  but  I  apprehended  that  all  of  your  section  who 
were  unacquainted  wdth  the  South,  held  views  more  or 
less  erroneous  as  to  the  management  of  om-  slaves." 

"  All  of  us  are  not  so  ready  to  believe  evil  as  you 
fear.  As  for  myself,  I  have  no  prejudices  against  the 
institution  only  as  I  regard  it  as  detrimental  to  the  pros- 
perity of  the  community  in  which  I  live.  I  feel  no  sen- 
timental sympathy  for  the  "  down-trodden  race,"  and 
doubt  not*^but  what  they  are  much  better  off  here  as 
slaves,  than  in  their  native  country.  As  I  remarked  just 
now,  you  people  of  the  South  take  life  easy,  and  from 
what  I  have  seen,  the  negro  is  just  as  much  of  a  philos- 
opher in  that  respect  as  his  master." 


BELLE  VIEW.  73 

The  suave  expression  returned  to  the  other's  face. 
The  next  best  tiling  to  converting  a  man  is  to  lind  out 
that  you  and  he  do  not  differ  very  materially  after  all. 


j  CHAPTER  VII. 

PARADISE  AND  THE  SEKPENT. 

On  returning  to  tlie  house  Wyndship  was  shown  to  a 
room  up-stairs  by  the  namesake  of  the  illustrious  Ro- 
man. Notwithstanding  his  boast  in  the  morning,  that 
he  was  not  unfamiliar  with  the  noble  art  of  horseman- 
ship, the  long  ride  had  jaded  him  no  little,  and  the  min- 
istrations of  Tony  were  consequently  very  agreeable. 
While  he  bathed  his  heated  face,  the  latter  proc'eeded  to 
remove  the  dust  from  his  boots  and  clothing  by  a  dex- 
terous use  of  the  brush  and  wisp  broom,  and  when  their 
joint  tasks  were  completed,  received  the  proffered  testi- 
monial with  a  bow  which  showed  a  high  appreciation  of 
the  "  Norf  n  gem'man's"  generosity,  the  ringing  of  the 
dinner-bell  hurried  the  return  down  stairs  where  Wyndship 
found  the  family  awaiting  him  in  the  parlor.  With  them 
was  a  3^oung  man,  who  was  introduced  as  "  Mr.  Hurst ;" 
after  which  ceremony  they  all  repaired  to  the  dining- 
room.  His  surmise  that  this  new  acquaintance  was  the 
Charley  Hurst  that  :Mrs.  Martin  had  spoken  of  in  such 
high  terms,  proved  correct,  and  the  good  opinion  formed 
from  her  praises  was  soon  strengthened  by  personal  con- 
tact—  a  feeling  that  was  apparently  reciprocated  by  the 
other,  to  a  marked  extent,  as  they  were  on  quite  friendly 
terms  before  the  evening  was  over. 

Wyndship  remembered  what  that  lady  had  said  about 
his  new  friend  and  Miss  Cachet,  and  concluded,  after  a 
little  observation  of  the  two,  that  she  was  not  far  wrong 
in  her  predictions.  Charley's  relations  with  the  family 
seemed  to  be  on  an  excellent  footing,  the  older  members 
calling  him  by  his  Christian  name  and  treating  him  very 
much  as  one  of  the  family.  With  the  young  lady  her- 
self however,  he  was  at  first  not  so  certain,  as  her  timid 
modesty  caused  her  to  hide  her  feelings  before  a 
stranger. 

The  dinner  passed  off  pleasantly  enough,  and   so   did 


74s  PARADISE   AND    THE    SERPENT. 

the  afternoon  that  followed,  pai-ticularly  that  part  of  the 
latter  in  which  the  young  folks  were  left  to  themselves 
in  the  parlor. 

"  Now  we  must  have  some  music,"  said  Charley, 
opening  the  piano. 

*'  It  must  be  Elma,  then,"  said  Miss  Gachet.  "  You 
know  I  never  play  when  she  is  present." 

"  Now  Mollie,"  expostulated  her  friend. 

''  Not  for  company,  I  mean." 

"  She  doesn't  regard  you  as  company,  I  suppose,  Mr. 
Charley?" 

''  Oh,  no,  I'm  home  folks,"  he  answered,  good-humor- 
edly,  regarding  with  evident  satisfaction  ^liss  JMollie's 
blushing  face. 

*' Then  you  know  Elma  is  the  best  musician,"  —  ad- 
dressing Charley —  "and — and  that  you  would  much 
rather  listen  to  her.  Besides,  I  know  from  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship's  face  that  he  is  anxious  to  hear  her  sing  again." 

"  I  believe  I'll  turn  this  job  of  finding  a  musician 
over  to  you,  Mr.  Wyndship,  as  you  look  like  a  man 
capable  of  making  the  refractory  obey,"  said  Charley, 
taking  the  vacant  seat  by  Miss  Mollie's  side. 

''  It  is  evidently  you  that  I  am  expected  to  make  obey. 
Miss  Owens." 

The  latter  gave  the  two  on  the  sofa  a  quizzical  glance, 
and  then  took  a  seat  at  the  instrument. 

"  As  in  all  probability  you  will  be  my  only  auditor,' 
she  said  to  Wyndsdip,  who  accompanied  her,  "  it  will 
only  be  right  to  consult  youi-  taste  alone.  What  shall  I 
play?" 

"  I'U  leave  that  to  you,  if  j-ou  please.  Anything  from 
you  I  know  will  be  delightful." 

"  Don't  be  too  certain  about  that,"  she  answered 
lightly.  ''  Some  people  think  I  have  very  singular 
taste  about  music." 

"  I  am  willing  to  risk  it." 

She  began  a  fashionable  waltz,  one  of  the  latest  pub- 
lications at  that  time,  but  soon  stopped. 

"  I  do  not  lilie  waltzes,  Mr.  AVyndship,  and  I  am  go- 
ing to  take  j^ou  at  your  word — give  you  the  kind  of 
music  that  I  lOve."  The  kind  of  music  she  liked  was 
just  the  opposite  to  what  she  had  been  playing  —  some- 
thing grand,  solemn  and  mournful,  and  in  which  passion 
predominated  over  melody.     She  soon  became  absorbed 


BELLEVIEW.  75 

in  her  theme,  and  seemingly  oblivious  to  the  presence  of 
others,  and  to  the  admiring  gaze  fastened  on  her  face. 
Though  no  musician  himself,  AVyndship  was  keenly  sus- 
ceptible to  its  influence,  and  now  listened  to  its  thrilling 
strains  with  tlie  highest  enjoyment,  only  regretting  that 
it  could  not  last  forever. 

"  That  is  the  kind  of  music  I  play  when  alone,"  she 
said,  without  looking  up,  breaking  the  momentary  silence 
that  followed  the  close  of  tlie  piece  ;  ''  but  I  expect  it 
will  be  enough  of  the  kind  for  j^ou." 

*'  No  ;  but  I  don't  want  you  to  play  any  other  instru- 
mental piece  just  now." 

"Why?" 

''Because  3^ou  would  not  play  the  same  over  again, 
and  nothing  else  could  be  near  so  beautiful." 

"Then  I  had  better  stop." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  sing  some  of  your  songs.  I  hope  I  am  not 
too  exacting,"  he  added  deprecatingly. 

"  The  victim  should  be  entitled  to  choose  the  mode 
of  torture,"  she  answered,  with  a  smile  ;  "  but  I  am  ac- 
cused of  being  as  unreasonable  in  my  taste  in  that  line 
as  in  the  other." 

"  I  certainly  can  afford  to  risk  it  this  time." 

She  sang  two  or  three  songs  at  that  time  popular  in 
the  South,  some  of  which  he  had  heard  before,  and  then 
commenced  Moore's  "  Song  of  the  Peri."  This  evidently 
was  one  that  she  liked,  for  her  voice  and  manner  changed 
at  once,  becoming  earnest  and  absorbed  as  betOxC. 
Her  listener  had  heard  it  frequently,  but  never,  he 
thought,  sung  like  it  was  then.  Leaning  against  the 
piano  watching  the  singer,  he  felt  impressed,  both  by 
the  words  and  music  in  a  manner  that  he  had  hitherto 
never  experienced.  He  imagined  that  it  was  her  pecu- 
liar manner  and  voice,  but  the  reader  will  probably 
think  —  and  correctly,  too  —  that  this  was  not  the  only 
cause.  Unlvnown  to  himself  a  glamour  had  come  over 
his  perceptions,  and  henceforth  where  Elma  Owens  was 
concerned,  he  could  never  be  an  impartial  critic.  In 
after  years,  amidst  other  scenes  and  sterner  duties, 
with  his  soul  enveloped  in  the  gloom  of  sorrow  and  re- 
gret, this  present  hour  was  never  forgotten.  That  voice, 
that  song,  that  face,  were  never  absent  from  his  mem- 
ory. No  particulars  of  the  surroundings  were  ever  lost ; 
the  piano,  the  room,  the  soft  wind  stealing   through  the 


76  PARADISE    AND    THE    SERPENT. 

open  windows,  the  golden  September  sunshine  gilding 
the  swaying  vines,  all  these  were  indelibly  impressed 
upon  his  mind  and  heart.  It  was  a  pictui'e  like  those  of 
the  old  masters,  which  time  might  dim,  but  could  never 
obliterate  its  beauties.  Unconsciously  he  had  passed  the 
frontier  and  entered  the  enchanted  regions ;  had  drank 
from  the  spring  whose  water  produces  either  the  greatest 
of  mortal  happiness  or  the  greatest  of  mortal  misery.        ^ 

As  she  finished,  their  eyes  met  —  what  was  it?  No] 
words  can  describe — only  a  woman's  intuition  can  feel  it. '; 
Instantly  her  eyes  dropped  and  her  face  colored. 

"  How  do  you  like  that?"  she  asked  in  a  constrained 
tone. 

''  I  have  heard  that  song  often  before,  but  it  never 
seemed  so  beautiful  before." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  addicted  to  flattery  ;"  this  time 
her  tone  was  unmistakably  cold  and  distant. 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  accuse  me  of  that  when  you 
know  me  better,"  he  answered  earnestly.  "  I  am  in- 
debted to  you  for  a  great  pleasure.  I  love  music  pas- 
sionately, and  somehow  yours — but  I  can't  describe  it, 
Miss  Owens.     I  hope  you  believe  me  sincere?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but  rising  quicldy,  confronted  the 
couple  on  the  sofa. 

*'AVell,  Mr.  Charley  Hurst,  how  did  you  enjoy  my 
music  ?" 

''Oh,  splendidly." 

"Did  you  really?" 

''  The  most  in  the  world." 

''Whatdidlplay?" 

*'Why — let  me  see  —  ah!  Convent  Bells,  Dixie  and 
— and  other  pieces." 

Making  him  a  low  courtesy,  she  said,  sarcastically, 
<'  I  am  very  much  gratified,  indeed,  sir,  by  your  close 
attention.  It  is  a  great  compliment  for  you  to  remem- 
ber even  one  piece,  I  hardly  expected  so  much.'* 

''  You  wouldn't  play  when  I  asked  you,"  he  retorted, 
seeing  that  she  had  trapped  him,  "but  did  for  Mr. 
Wyndship,  so  I  got  mad,  and  wouldn't  listen." 

"Mr.  Wyndship  didn't  ask  me,  sir.  It  was  you  that 
made  the  request,  and  just  so  soon  as  I  commenced  you 
stopped  your  ears.  Never  mind,  I  will  have  my  revenge 
some  day." 

&he  turned  to  an  open  window  and  stood  looking   out 


BELLEVIEW.  77 

into  the  garden,  her  exquisite  figure  clad  in  light  mus- 
lin, being  beautifully  outlined  by  the  green  vines  be- 
yond. 

"  Let  us  go  down  to  the  pond  and  take  a  boat  ride," 
she  suggested,  after  a  moment's  silence,  without  turning 
her  head.     "  It  is  getting  cooler  now." 

This  proposition  seeming  to  meet  with  unanimous 
assent — at  least  no  objections  were  made — she  contin- 
ued, *'  I  will  get  your  hat,  Mollie  — wait,"  and  passed^ 
quickly  out  of  the  room  to  return  in  a  few  minutes,! 
swinging  two  wide-brimmed  garden  hats,  differing  only  in 
the  color  of  their  ribbons,  in  her  hand.  The  one  with  blue 
ribbons  she  handed  to  her  friend,  and  placing  the  other 
on  her  head,  she  appropriated  Charley  as  an  escort, 
leading  the  way  through  a  side-door  towards  the  gate  in 
the  hedge.  Both  she  and  Charley  seemed  in  the  high- 
est spirits,  and  kept  up  a  continual  fire  of  gay  badinage 
and  repartee,  intermingled  with  merry  laughter  as  they 
proceeded  in  front.  This  merriment  grated  unpleasantly 
on  Wyndship's  ear,  although  he  could  not  have  given 
any  reason  for  the  fact.  He  was  still  under  the  spell  of 
her  singing  and  could  not  understand  how  she  could  be- 
come so  quickly  disenthralled. 

"  We  make  it  a  point  to  ask  every  visitor  how  they 
like  Belleview,  Mr.  AVyndship,  so  you  will  have  to  ex- 
press youi*  opinion." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  change  its  name  to  Paradise, 
Miss  Gachet.  It  certainly  comes  nearer  being  that  than 
any  spot  I  have  ever  seen." 

''If  you  say  that  now,  what  would  you  think  of  it 
next  spring,  when  the  flowers  will  all  be  in  full 
bloom?" 

"I  do  not  see  how  it  could  possibly  be  much  more 
beautiful." 

"  Oh,  but  it  is  ;  it  hardly  looks  like  the  same  place. 
We  are  all  very  proud  of  our  home— of  the  gi'ounds  and 
flowers." 

"  You  have  a  right  to  be.  It  must  have  cost  a  vast 
amount  of  time  and  labor  as  well  as  expense,  to  bring 
them  to  their  present  state  of  perfection.  Youi'  gardener 
certainly  understands  his  business." 

"I  think  he  does,  as  that  is  papa.  We  call  him  the 
head  gardener,  and  mother  is  liis  first  assistant." 


78  PARADISE    AND    THE    SERPENT. 

'^  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  I  was  sui'e  j^ou  had  the  services 
of  a  professional." 

"Oh,  no,  we  couldn't  permit  any  stranger  to  tamper 
with  it.  You  see  all  of  us  are  interested  in  its  perfec- 
tion. If  any  of  the  family  are  away  on  a  visit,  and  see 
or  hear  of  any  new  flower  or  plant,  we  feel  it  our 
bounden  duty  to  secure  a  slip  or  cutting  for  Belleview, 
otherwise,  on  returning,  we  would  be  accused  of  high 
treason.  We  received  a  letter  from  my  brother  Leon, 
who  is  now  in  Florida,  last  night.  He  writes  that  he 
has  secured  several  new  tropical  plants  for  the  green- 
house. Papa  answered  at  once  —  last  night  —  to  be  sure 
and  bring  them.  When  he  gets  back  you  must  come 
out  and  see  them." 

W3mdship  thanked  her,  but  in  his  heart  he  doubted 
whether  he  would  care  to  visit  Belleview  after  Leon 
Gachet  returned. 

By  this  time  they  had  arrived  at  the  boat-house,  where 
they  found  ]Miss  Owens  already  seated  in  the  stern  of 
the  little  boat  with  her  hand  on  the  tiller. 

"  I  am  captain  of  this  craft,"  she  said.  "  Do  j^ou  all 
want  passage?  Well,  Mr.  Hurst,  if  you  will  take  a 
hand  at  an  oar  you  may  get  aboard.  Mr.  Wyndship, 
I  know  nothing  about  3'our  seamanship,  so  3^ou  had  bet- 
ter take  a  seat  in  the  bow  and  keep  a  lookout  for  break- 
ers. Miss  Gachet,  I  hardly  know  where  you  can  stow 
your  little  —  ah,  but  it  seems  3'ou  are  provided  for,"  as 
Charley  assisted  her  to  a  seat  at  the  other  oar.  "  All 
aboard." 

After  the  boat  had  left  the  bank.  Miss  Owens,  as  if 
to  make  amends  for  the  distance  she  had  placed  between 
herself  and  W^^ndship,  addressed  her  remarks  entirely  to 
him  across  the  heads  of  the  other  two. 

"Have  you  ever  boated  much,  Mr.  Wyndship?" 

"  I  was  raised  on  the  banks  of  a  river ;  besides,  boi.t- 
ing  was  one  of  our  principle  recreations  at  college.  80 
you  see  j'our  doubts  about  my  seamanship  were  mis- 
placed." 

"  I  will  know  better  next  time,"  she  replied,  with  a 
laugh  and  a  slight  change  of  color.  "  I  suppose  some 
of  the  students  are  very  expert  with  an  oar?" 

"Yes." 

The  monosyllabic  reply  was  discouraging,  but  she  per- 
severed. 


*' AYe  have  some  beaiitlf 111  streams  for  such  amuse- 
ment in  Creorgin ,  but  I  have  never  heard  of  any  of  our 
young  men  forming  a  boating  club." 

Although  this  was  not  a  question,  he  though  some  re- 
ply was  expected. 

' '  I  guess  the  craze  has  never  been  developed  among 
them  yet." 

"  Or  rather,  our  people  are  too  indolent  to  care 
for  such  exercise.     Don't  you  think  that  is  the  reason?" 

"  I  can't  say.  Maybe  they  think  water  was  made  to 
fish  in,  and  not  to  row  over." 

''Be  honest  now,  Mr.  Wyndship,  and  confess  that 
you  think  the  reason  I  gave  is  the  true  one." 

"  I  will  be  honest.  Miss  Owens,  and  tell  you  I  don't 
know." 

"It  is  not  what  you  know,  but  what  you  think,  that 
I  ask  for ;"  her  eyes  and  smile  were  dangerously 
bright. 

' '  Then  I  haven't  thought  about  it  —  I  haven't  —  your 
reason,  maybe  the  true  one,  and  it  may  not  —  I  can't 
say." 

' '  I  thought  our  reputation  for  indolence  was  too  well 
established  at  the  North  for  you  to  have  any  doubt 
about  it." 

' '  Maybe  you  are  mistaken  in  what  you  conceive  to  be 
the  Yankee  estimation  of  the  Southern  people." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  see  that  I  can't  betray  you  into  an 
impolite  speech.  Don't  you  think  it  is  better  to  be  frank 
than  polite  ?" 

"  Not  always." 

"  AYhat  exceptions  should  there  be?" 

"  If  you  were  a  very  homely  young  lady.  Miss  Owens, 
it  would  be  in  better  taste,  and  would  be  a  kinder  act  for 
me  to  politely  ignore  that  fact  than  to  frankly  tell  you  of 
it." 

'' I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  laughingiy.  "Now 
I  know  it  is  politeness  that  prevented  you  from  answer- 
ing my  questions  just  now  ;  and  I  will  never  know,  here- 
after, how  much  of  what  you  say  is  kindness  of  heart 
and  how  much  is  truth." 

"  I  didn't  say  that  we  should  tell  falsehoods  to  be  po- 
lite, only — " 

"  Only  to  suppress  the  truth — that  is   not   story-teU- 


80  JPARADISE   AND  THE   SERPENT. 

ing,  I  suppose?    Gentty,  sailors  mine,  we  have   reached 
our  destination,  and  our  voyage  is  safely  o'er." 

Wyndship  stepped  out,  and  proceeded  to  tie  the  boat 
to  a  tree  without  replying  to  the  first  part  of  her  re- 
marks. The  others  followed  his  example  by  placing 
themselves  on  terra  firma,  except  Miss  Owens,  who 
stopped  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  with  one  foot  on  the 
boat's  side. 

''  Your  captain  expects  the  thanks  of  her  passengers," 
she  said,  in  the  same  lively  tone  that  she  had  used  since 
leaving  the  house. 

''That  must  mean  you,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  said  Hurst. 
"  Miss  Mollie  and  I  acted  as  the  crew." 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  "  you  were  only  working  your 
passage." 

Wyndship  finished  tying  the  boat,  and  although  his 
face  looked  red  from  embarrassment,  he  stepped  forward 
with  as  much  gi'ace  as  he  could  command. 

"  Can  I  express  my  thanks  by  assisting  your  ladyship 
to  the  shore  ?" 

"  Your  ladyship"  (with  considerable  emphasis  on  the 
title)  "only  wanted  thanks — not  pay."  Springing 
lightly  past  him  without  accepting  the  proffered  assist- 
ance, she  went  on  in  front  of  the  other  couple. 

As  if  to  cover  the  rebuff  and  to  aid  him  in  subduing 
any  discomposure  he  might  feel,  Mollie  said  quickly : 

"'  Welcome  to  Mosquito  Paradise,  Mr.  Wyndship. 
May  your  sojourn  here  be  as  pleasant  to  you,  as  doubt- 
less it  will  be  profitable  to  the  native  inhabitant." 

''That  is  hardly  possible,"  suggusted  Charley,  "as 
their  profit  must  be  his  loss." 

"  How  is  that? — I  do  not  understand." 

"  Ycu  will  if  you  remain  long,  and  think  the  place 
very  well  named,  too,  I  warrant.  The  '  native  inhabi- 
tant' exacts  tribute  from  all  strangers  within  his  terri- 
tory at  this  hour." 

They  wandered  slowly  about  through  the  natural 
grove  of  beech,  magnolia,  and  water-oak  trees,  at  last 
stopping  where  there  were  some  rustic  seats  and  a  table. 
These  had  been  provided  for  the  convenience  of  fishing 
and  picnic  parties,  as  "  Colonel  Cachet's  pond"  was  a 
favorite  resort  with  the  neighborhood  for  such  spring 
and  summer  amusements.  All  of  Charley's  manoeuvres 
to  separate  himself  and  Mollie  from  the  other  two,  some- 


JiELLEVIEW.  81 

how  came  to  naught,  in  fact,  to  all  appearances,  it 
would  have  been  an  easier  task  to  have  divided  up  the 
other  way,  leaving  Mollie  to  Wyndship,  as  the  task  of 
entertaining  the  stranger  devolved  almost  entirely  upon 
her.  Their  stay,  however,  was  brief,  as  the  almost  twi- 
light gloom  which  soon  gathered  under  the  intense 
foliage  overhead,  warned  them  that  the  sun  was  going 
down. 

"  I  dare  say,  My.  Wyndship  has  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  Southern  mosquito  by  this  time,"  said  Elma, 
brushing  one  of  the  pests  from  her  cheek,  "  and  as  it  ia 
growing  late,  we  had  better  return." 

"  Have  you  paid  your  tribute  ?"  inquired  Charley. 

"  I  believe  I  have  —  in  part,  at  least,"  energeticallj^ 
slapping  one  of  his  ears. 

'•''  Well ;  then  it  vrould  be  cruel  to  expose  you  to  their 
exactions  any  longer,  as  they  never  cry  enough." 

"  Oh,  you  must  register  before  you  leave,  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship," cried  Mollie  — "  we  require  every  visitor  to 
write  their  names  here,  and  can't  let  you  be  an  excep- 
tion." 

' '  Where  is  your  register  ?" 

''  We  have  several — you  are  leaning  against  one." 

He  turned,  and  noticed  that  the  smooth  bark  of  the 
beech  had  been  cut  and  carved  with  numerous  initials. 
Catching  the  idea,  he  rolled  one  of  the  seats  to  the  foot 
of  the  tree,  and  took  out  his  pocket-knife. 

"I  am  very  aspiring,  Miss  Gachet,  and  am  going  to 
place  my  name  above  all  the  others." 

''  '  In  the  topmost  niche  of  fame,'  "  slowly  repeated 
Elma,  sinking  down  to  a  seat  at  the  foot  of  an  adjacent 
tree  to  await  the  completion  of  the  task. 

Without  knowing  why,  her  tone  rather  increased  the 
secret  irritation  that  he  had  been  feeling  since  leaving 
the  house,  but  mounting  the  block,  he  commenced  his 
task,  taking  particular  pains  with  the  formation  of  his 
letters.  Mollie  stood  by  watching  his  labors,  and  occa- 
sionally making  some  remark,  or  suggestion.  He  was 
finishing  the  last  letter,  when  his  fair  critic 
stopped  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  a  laughing  remark 
about  the  exaggerated  size  of  his  W,  as  compared  with 
the  others.  Glancing  down  to  ascertain  the  cause  of 
the  interruption,  he  was  startled  by  a  look  of  ghastly 
horror  on  her   face.     Her  eyes    were    f.xed  —  seemingly 


82  PARADISE   AND   THE   SERPENT. 

fascinated — on  some  ten-ible  sight,  and  her  month  was 
open  as  if  to  scream,  had  her  tongue  not  been  paralyzed 
by  fright.  Following  the  direction  of  her  gaze,  he  saw 
what  sent  a  shock  of  horror  through  his  own  system. 
Elma  was  seated  on  the  out-spreading  roots  of  a  tree, 
leaning  slightly  back,  supported  by  one  hand  which  was 
half  buried  in  a  banli  of  green  moss  behind  her,  and  list- 
ening to  Charley's   description  of   an   amusing   incident 

that  had  happened  in ,  a  short  while  before.  Within 

twelve  inches  of  her  arm  he  saw  the  erect  head  and  dis- 
tended jaws  of  a  large  snake,  ready  to  strike  its  blow 
into  the  soft  white  wrist  of  its  unconscious  victim. 
There  was  not  a  second  to  lose — the  least  motion  of 
on  Elma's  part  would  precipitate  the  blow,- which  now  was 
held  back  by  the  same  cruel  instinct  of  enjoyment,  that 
keeps  a  tiger  from  springing  so  long  as  its  prey  remains 
quiet,  and  there  is  no  visible  effort  of  escape  or  rescue. 
All  this  he  took  in  at  one  glance,  and  despite  the  shock 
it  gave  him.,  he  almost  as  quickly  devised  the  only  possible 
of  rescue.  The  girl  must  not  be  warned,  neither  could 
he  make  any  movement  to  secure  a  v^eapon.  Instantly 
calculating  the  exact  distance,  and  nen^ing  himself  for 
the  task,  he  sprang  from  the  block,  landing  with  his  heels 
upon  the  neck  and  body  of  the  serpent.  The  action  was 
the  signal  that  loosened  Mollie's  paralyzed  tongue,  and 
gave  utterance  to  the  interrupted  scream. 

Elma  sprang  to  her  feet,  bewildered  by  her  friend's 
exhibition  of  terror,  and  by  Wyndship's  unexpected  ac- 
tion ;  nor  did  she  become  fully  apprised  of  the  danger  to 
w^hich  she  had  been  exposed,  and  her  timely  rescue,  un- 
til the  latter  had  accomplished  the  destruction  of  the 
enemy.  As  the  truth  dawned  on  her  mind,  she  turned 
deadly  pale,  but  did  not  lose  her  presence  of  mind. 

"Oh!  Mr.  Wyndship,"  she  cried  out,  "  you  will  be 
bitten.     Help — Oh  !  Mr.  Hurst  — help  him." 

Charley  seized  a  stick,  but  the  Yankee's  heels  had  left 
him  nothing  to  do  to  the  snake — having  most  effectually 
stamped  and  ground  it  into  the  trodden  ground — how- 
ever, his  efforts  were  demanded  in  another  way,  and  in 
another  direction.  The  terror  and  nen^ous  excitement 
of  his  sweetheart,  who  was,  by  far,  the  most  excited  one 
of  the  gi'oup,  appealed  more  strongly  to  his  sympathies 
just  then  than   anything   else  could   have   done.     He 


BELLEVIEW.  83 

thought  she  needed  the  assurance  of  his  protection,  and 
hastened  to  place  it  at  her  sel•^ice. 

''  Oh!  Mr.Wyndship,  are  you  bitten?"  cried  Ehna,  anx- 
iously, as  the  young  Northerner  stepped  aside,  when 
convinced  that  his  victory  was  complete.  "  Are  you  cer- 
tain that  you're  not  bitten  ?" 

"  Yes,  Miss  Owens,  I'm  not  hurt  in  the  least.'* 

"  I'm  so  glad  —  but  you  ought  to  be  sure — you  have 
run  a  great  risk." 

''  No — it  was  you  that  was  in  danger,  not  me." 

"  I  know — and  I  know  that  it  was  your  promptness 
that  saved  me.  But  you  were  in  great  danger,  too — 
great  danger." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed  —  it  did  not  have  a  chance  to 
bite  me.  I  —  I  am  thankful  indeed,  that — that  I  saw 
it  in  time." 

He  was  not  only  thankful  —  in  addition  to  the  joy  he 
felt  at  her  escape,  he  was  also  secretly  exulting  over  the 
thought  that  he  had  placed  this  ghi  under  some  obliga- 
tions to  himself,  particularly^,  as  he  suspected,  that  she 
had  been  intentionally  keeping  him  at  a  distance  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon.  Henceforth  there 
would  be  something  of  bond  between  them  which  she 
could  not  honorably  ignore.  Not  that  he  intended  to 
use  this  advantage,  or  presume  on  the  slight  service  ;  he 
would  have  scorned  the  mere  thought  of  such  an  inten- 
tion, even  had  the  obligation  been  ten-fold  greater.  No, 
the  distance  placed  between  them  by  wealth  and  preju- 
dice must  be  lessened  by  her,  or  forever  remain ;  but, 
notwithstanding  this  proud  resolution,  he  gloried  in  the 
knowledge  that  he  now  had  one  claim  on  her  considera- 
tion. If  she  acknowledged  it,  and  showed  a  disposition 
to  treat  him  as  a  friend,  then  he  would  gladly  accept  the 
favor — if  not — ivell,  it  didn't  matter. 

"  It  is  a  moccasin  —  a  water-moccasin,"  said  Charley, 
as  AYyndship  pried  the  snake  out  of  the  trodden  soil, 
and  hadvenom  enough  in  him  to  kill  a  dozen  men." 

Elma's  fears  seemed  to  be  freshly  aroused  at  this  an- 
nouncement. 

"  Are  you  certain  that  it  did  not  strike  you?"  she 
asked  again,  looking  anxiously  down  at  the  young  man's 
feet  and  ankles  —  "they  are  so  deadly." 

'*  Very  certain.  Miss  Owens.  But  are  they  so  poison- 
ous as  that?" 


84  WYNDSHIP   IS    BITTEX. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Charley,  "  as  much  so  as  the  rattle- 
snake, and  are  more  to  be  dreaded,  'as  they  strike  with- 
out giving  warning.  Their  bite  is  considered  ahnost 
certain  death.  You  did  the  job  pretty  thoroughly,  it 
seems,  and  we  need  never  fear  another  encounter  with 
his  snakeship." 

*'  Oh,  let  us  leave  this  terrible  place,"  pleaded  Mollie, 
shuddering  from  head  to  foot.  "  I  shall  never  want  to 
come  here  again." 

Charley  drew  her  hand  through  his  arm  and  started 
back  to  the  boat,  but  all  the  reassuring  power  of  his 
protection  did  not  prevent  her  from  watching  every  step 
with  dilated  eyes. 

"I  haven't  thanked  you,  Mr.  Wyndship  —  indeed,  I 
cannot  express  gratitude  sufficiently,"  Elma  said  earn- 
estly, as  they  followed. 

''  Oh,  yes,  you  have — far  more  than  I  deserve  ;"  and 
the  richer  glow  on  his  cheeks,  and  brighter  sparkle  in 
his  eyes,  showed  his  keen  appreciation  of  her  gratitude. 
"  Is  the  snake  one  of  Miss  Gachet's  native  inhabitants, 
too?"  he  asked,  to  check  any  further  expression  of 
thanks.  ''  If  so  I  have  committed  an  aggravated  mur- 
der, in  the  eyes  of  the  law — entered  the  victim's  prem- 
ises to  do  the  killing."  A  slight  tremor,  that  his  com- 
panion could  not  suppress,  however,  warned  him  that 
this  was  not  a  subject  of  jest  with  her.  He  had  noticed 
and  greatly  admired  her  self-control,  and  now  saw  that 
it  was  not  caused  by  indifference  or  insensibility  to  the 
danger  she  had  run,  but  was  the  result  of  a  strong  will, 
and  a  complete  command  of  herself.  This  time  she  did 
not  refuse  his  assistance  to  her  seat  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat,  and  by  an  arrangement  of  Charley's,  to  be  near 
MoUie  himself,  he  was  placed  at  the  hindmost  oar. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

WYNDSHIP  IS  BITTEN. 

The  encounter  with  the  snake  had  effectually  damp- 
ened the  spirits  of  the  little  party,  and  the  row  back 
across  the  pond  was  in  comparative  silence.  True, 
Charley  made  an  effort  to  rally  their  spirits,  or  rather 
Mollie's  spirits  (for  his  attention  was  principally  di- 
rected to  her)  by  playful  and  funny  remarks  ;  but  find- 


BELLE  VIEW.  85 

ing  such  attempts  were  futile,  he  lowered  his  tone  to  one 
of  tenderness  and  sympathy.  So  engrossed  did  he  be- 
come in  these  efforts  at  consolation,  that  he  lost  more 
than  one  stroke  of  his  oar,  thereby  sending  their  little 
craft  out  of  its  direct  course.  Elma  had  perfectly  re- 
gained her  composure  and  usual  appearance,  save,  pos- 
sibly, a  slight  paleness,  but  her  late  gayety  was  entirely 
gone,  and  with  it,  seemingly,  all  inclination  to  talk. 
Although  nominally  steersman  of  the  crew,  she  paid  but 
little  attention  to  that  duty,  so  that  AVyndship  rowed  in 
silence,  and  to  avoid  her  being  disturbed,  counteracted 
the  effects  of  Charley's  false  strokes  by  inaction  on  his 
own  part,  until  the  boat  came  back  to  its  proper  course. 
He  thought  she  made  a  lovely  picture  as  she  sat  with 
one  hand  idly  trailing  in  the  water  by  her  side  and  with 
her  shining  eyes  fixed  on  the  western  sky.  And  then,  as 
he  watched  her,  he  thought  of  the  different  moods  and 
phases  of  character  that  she  had  exhibited  in  one  short 
evening ;  recalling  to  his  mind  those  inunitable  words  of 
Wordsworth : 

••  She  was  a  phantom  of  delight, 
When  first  she  gleamed  upon  my  sight." 

But  then,  he  had  already  reached  that  condition  in 
which  any  mood  she  might  assume  would  be  certain  to 
have  its  attractions. 

As  the  boat  neared  the  landing  she  looked  up,  and 
catching  his  fixed  gaze,  the  color  came  quickly  back  to 
her  cheeks. 

"  Your  thoughts  were  like  mine,  Mr.  Wyndship,  wan- 
dering—  were  they  not?" 

"  I  was  thinking,  but  my  thoughts  were  not  wander- 
ing—  at  least,  not  so  far  as  yours,  which  seem  to  be  as 
distant  as  yonder  sunset." 

''  Ah,  but  the  sunset  is  not  distant — not  to  me.  Its 
beauties  are  as  near  to  me  —  belong  as  much  to  me  as  to 
any  one  in  all  the  wide  world.  Nobody  is  nearer  it  than 
I,  neither  can  any  one  deprive  me  of  my  share  in  its 
glories.     But  I  was  not  thinking  of  the  sunset." 

He  handed  her  out  and  fastened  the  boat  before  re- 
plying. In  the  meantime,  the  other  two  went  on  up  the 
path  without  waiting. 


86  WYNDSHIP   IS    BITTEN. 

''Yoiu- thoughts,  then,  were  even  more  distant  than 
the  sun  ?  " 

"  Do  you  challenge  me  to  an  exchange  of  confidence?" 
she  answered  archly,  with  something  lilve  a  return  to  her 
tormer  gaycty. 

''No  —  not  this  evening,"  he  replied  quickly,  and 
very  seriously.     "  Possibly  some  other-  time  I  will." 

"  Then  I  will  be  generous,  and  give  you  mine  without 
the  exchange  —  that  is,  if  the  revealing  of  my  silly 
thoughts  can  be  considered  a  generous  act." 

"  Let  me  hear  them,  and  I  will  be  the  judge  of  their 
value." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  the  expression,  that  '  Into  every 
Eden  some  serpent  must  creep.'  " 

"  A  very  natural  thought,  when  taken  in  connection 
with  our  late  experience." 

"  Yes,  but  how  true  it  is  in  another  sense.  How  im- 
possible it  seems  for  any  human  enjoyment  to  be  perfect, 
and  how  soon  every  earthly  happiness  is  marred  by — by 
the  entrance  of  the  serpent.  He  visits  every  paradise — 
stealing  into  the  pleasantest  retreats,  and  hiding  beneath 
the  brighest  flowers.  Was  it  not  a  poetess  of  your  own 
section  who  said,  '  The  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  them 
air  ?" 

"  I  had  hoped,  and  believed,  that  he  had  entered  but 
seldom  into  your  life." 

"  AVhy  so?  Why  should  I  be  exempt  from  his  visita- 
tions any  more  than  others  ?  " 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  we  do  not  expect  storms 
and  hurricanes  on  a  bright  and  cloudless  day." 

"  But  w^e  do  have  them  on  such  daj^s.  The  clearest, 
brightest  mornings  sometimes  come  before  the  severest 
storms,  as  the  happiest  prospects  often  end  in  the  deep- 
est misery." 

"  That  is  so,  but  who  would  have  expected  to  hear 
such  gloomy  precepts  from  your  lips  ?  Who  would  have 
suspected  that  such  mournful  truths  had  ever  found 
lodgment  in  your  mind  ?" 

' '  You  speak  as  if  I  had  never  had  trouble — as  if  I  had 
never  had  cause  for  sorrow.  Have  you  forgotten  that  I 
am  an  orphan  ?" 

"  Pardon  my  carelessness — " 

"It  is  true,"  she  interrupted,  "  that  my  motLea:  died 
when  I  was  very  young,  too  young  to  realize  the  loss, 


SELLEVIEW.  ft  7 

but  my  father  has  not  been  dead  so  long  that  —  that  I 
do  not  still  feel  the  pain."  The  faltering  manner  in 
which  this  was  said  touched  the  young  man  deeply,  mak- 
ing him  feel  that  he  had  committed  a  dastardly  crime, 
in  thus  awkwardly  probing  a  wound  in  her  heart  that 
time  had  not  yet  healed.  He  hastened  to  express  his 
remorse  in  a  manner  so  earnest  as  to  leave  no  doubt  of 
his  sincerity. 

"  Forgive  me  for  touching  so  painful  a  subject,  and 
so  thoughtlessly.  It  was  an  unpardonable  blunder, 
but  I  did  not  think.  I  had  lost  sight,  for  the  moment, 
of  facts,  in  my  wonder  how  dark  sorrow  could  ever  dare 
to  touch  so  bright  an  object." 

She  stopped  instantly  and  faced  him.  A  complete 
change  had  come  over  her  face,  and  her  voice  con- 
tained more  vexation  —  almost  anger — than  he  had  yet 
heard. 

''  Mr.  "Wyndship,  I  hate  flattery;  and  of  all  charac- 
ters, 1  think  the  llatterer  is  the  most  detestable.  Do  you 
wish  me  to  assign  you  to  that  class  ?" 

This  attack  took  him  completely  by  surprise,  and  he 
hun*iedly  answered:  "By  no  means — anything  but 
that." 

She  watched  him  for  a  moment  keenly,  as  if  to  dis- 
cover whether  the  sincerity  and  amazement  were  assumed 
or  not. 

"  Then  you  must  quit  uttering  such  nonsense." 

"  What  nonsense?  I  haven't  offered  you  any  flattery 
—  at  least,  did  not  intend  it  as  such.  I  spoke  as  I 
would  have  done  of  some  beautiful  picture,  or  some 
lovely  scene,  not  thinking  that  I  was  implying  any  com- 
pliment to  you  person all}^" 

"  You  are  the  most  incorrigible  person  I  ever  met," 
she  answered,  resuming  her  walk,  *'  and  the  hardest  to 
understand." 

"  I  did  not  know  I  was  such  a  puzzle.  Maybe,  Miss 
Owens,  if  you  were  to  give  me  credit  for  possessing  the 
homely  virtues  of  truth  and  candor  I  would  not  be  so 
hard  to  understand.". 

"  That  is  what  I  wish  to  credit  you  with,  but  j^ou 
musn't  put  my  faith  to  such  severe  tests.  You  know  it 
is  a  habit  with  young  men  to  say  pretty  things  to  us  for 
effect  —  to  please  us.     It  does  not  please  me.'* 


88  WYNDSHIP  IS  bitti:n. 

An  aiKlacious  sparkle  came  into  the  j^onng  Tnan*f3 
eyes. 

"  I  take  it  all  back,  Miss  Owens,  every  word  of  it, 
and  instead  will  say,  that  I  think  it  a  very  great  injus- 
tice shameful  injustice  for  so  homely  a  person  as  yourself 
to  be  afflicted  with  the  common  troubles  of  life."  He  said 
this  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  vrithout  stopping  to  think, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  uttered,  felt  fer.rfully  abashed  at  his 
own  audacity. 

Smiles,  however,  chased  every  other  expression  from 
Elma's  face,  as  she  answered,  with  reassuring  sweetness  : 
*'  That  sounds  so  much  better.  Why  didn't  you  say  that 
at  first?" 

''  Because  it  was  not  the  truth,  and,  excuse  me,  you 
know  it  was  not." 

Any  other  girl  would  have  been  profuse  in  denying, 
or  at  least,  in  expressing  a  doubt  of  this  fact,  but  Elma 
was  incapable  of  such  affectation.  She  laughed  lightly 
to  cover  her  defeat. 

"  I  must  acknowledge  mj^self  worsted,  Mr.  Wyndship, 
as  1  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  my  homeliness  is  so 
conspicuous,  still,  would  it  not  be  better  in  conversation, 
to  leave  out  our  personal  appearance  altogether?  Not 
to  speak  of  it,  I  mean,  unless  necessary." 

"  There,  I  think  you  are  right,  and  I  only  wanted  to 
show  you  that  while  my  compliments,  as  you  persist  in 
calling  them,  may  have  been  in  bad  taste,  still  I  was  not 
guilty  of  insincerity." 

"  Let  us  make  a  bargain,  then.  I  will  promise  to  al- 
ways believe  in  your  truth  and  candor,  provided  you 
will  not  offer  me  any  more  flattery.  What  do  you 
say?" 

^'  You  must  change  your  proposition  a  little,  as  it  im- 
plies that  I  have  already  been  guilt}^,  and  that  I  cannot 
admit.     Leave  out  the  word  '  more,'  and  I  accept." 

"How  very  persistent  you  are.  Well,  they  say  a 
'  Y\'iiful  man  must  e'en  have  his  own  way,'  consequently 
I  must  accede  to  your  demand." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  gracious  concession." 

"  Of  course  nothing  pleases  a  self-willed  person  more 
than  to  force  others  to  accept  his  terms.  Now  I  know 
I  am  doing  wrong  to  humor  j^ou,  as  it  will  only  tend  to 
increase  your  stubbornness ;  but  it  is  so  much  less 
trouble  to  give  way  sometimes,  than  to  convince,  even  if 


BELLEVIEW.  «9 

that  was  possible,  which  I  doubt  very  much,  in  your 
case." 

"  That  would  be  sacrificing  duty  to  ease,  would  it 
not?" 

"  And  why  not,  when  the  task  is  so  evidently  beyond 
my  ability?" 

As  he  did  not  reply  immediately,  she  added,  playfully : 
*'  Women  are  always  entitled  to  the  last  word,  Mr. 
Wyndship,  so  you  might  as  well  make  up  your  mind  to 
let  .me  have  it." 

*'  Of  course  he  will.  Who  ever  heard  of  its  being 
otherv\ise?"  said  Charley's  voice,  directly  at  their  side, 
startling  them  both  by  its  suddenness.  They  were  in 
the  "  flower  yard,"  and  the  first  couple  had  stopped  to 
wait  for  them,  and  were  standing  at  a  turn  in  the  walk 
where  the  shrubbery  partly  hid  them  from  view.  "  That 
must  have  been  a  very  absorbing  discussion,  or  quarrel, 
which  ever  it  was  ?  I  believe  you  would  have  walked 
over  us  if  I  had  not  spoken." 

"  What  did  you  stop  for,  then,  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  path?"  retorted  Elma. 

"  To  tell  you  some  good  news,"  Charley  answered 
mischievously,  *'  Arthur  is  in  the  parlor  waiting  for 
your  return." 

''  How  do  you  know?" 

"  We  met  Minty  coming  after  us,"  interposed  MoUie. 
"  Mamma  sent  her.  I — "  she  started  to  add,  with  a 
pout,  that  she  wished  she  had  stayed  away,  but  recol- 
lected herself  in  time  to  check  the  inhospitable  expres- 
sion. 

On  entering  the  house,  the  young  ladies  went  di- 
rectly up-stairs,  leaving  the  gentlemen  to  enter  the  par- 
lor. There  they  found  Mrs.  Gachet  entertaining  a  young 
man  whom  Charley  addressed  as  Arthur,  and  whom  Mrs. 
Gachet  introduced  to  Wyndship  as  "  Mr.  Slaton."  This 
new  acquaintance  gave  him  quite  an  effusive  welcome, 
expressing  no  end  of  pleasure  at  the  meeting,  and  so 
forth.  From  the  name,  and  strong  resemblance,  Wynd- 
ship decided  at  once  that  he  was  a  relative  of  the  re- 
fractory trustee,  a  surmise  that  was  proven  correct  later 
in  the  evening,  when  he  ascertained  that  he  was  the  eld- 
est son  of  that  gentleman.  Nothwithstanding  his  fath- 
er's pronounced  hatred  to  all  Yankees,  and  fierce  oppo- 
sition  to  the  new  teacher  in   particular,  he   tried   to   be 


^0  WTNDSHIP   IS   BITTEN. 

more  than  cordial  in  his  intercourse  with  the  lattel'. 
With  extreme  affability  he  expressed  the  hope  that 
their' 'acquaintance  would  soon  ripen  into  something  bet- 
ter ;"  and  that  he  would  be  "  vastly  pleased,  and  highly 
honored,"  could  he  regard  our  hero  as  his  friend,  and 
much  more  to  the  same  effect  —  far  more  than  the  latter 
thought  necessary  for  the  occasion.  For  some  reason 
he  could  not  explain  —  whether  it  was  the  prejudice  he 
already  entertained  towards  the  father,  or  whether  it  was 
something  in  the  young  man's  face  itself  ;  in  the  thin 
lips,  high,  narrow  forehead,  and  uncertain  gray  eyes  — 
that  caused  the  feeling  of  repulsion,  he  could  not  deter- 
mine. He  parried  the  advances  as  politely  as  he  could, 
so  as  to  give  the  least  cause  for  offense,  and  at  the  same 
time  keep  before  him  a  breastwork  of  reserve ;  a 
task  that  would  have  tried  the  resources  of  a  much 
more  artful  man  than  himself.  The  suspicion,  in  the 
meantime,  that  his  new  friend,  Charley,  was  secretly 
enjoying  the  contest,  did  not  add  to  his  equanimity. 

The  young  ladies  did  not  join  them  until  just  before 
tea  was  announced,  the  Colonel  coming  in  about  the 
same  time.  AYyndship  was  hoping  that  the  snake  inci- 
dent would  not  be  mentioned,  but  the  subject  was 
brought  up  at  the  table,  and  the  Colonel  insisted  on 
hearing  all  the  particulars.  AYhen  Charley  and  his  daugh- 
ter, who  did  most  of  the  relating,  had  finished,  he  was 
very  profuse  in  his  praises  and  thanks  to  the  hero  of  the 
occasion,  for  the  promptness  and  presence  of  mind  he 
displayed  ;  despite  the  latter's  protestations  that  the  inci- 
dent was  of  no  importance. 

"  It  proves,  sir,  that  you  are  possessed  of  two  most 
desirable  traits,  that  of  coolness  and  courage,  in  an 
unexpected  emergency." 

"Anyone  else  could,  and  would,  Aave  acted  as  I  did, 
under  the  circumstances." 

"  I  am  proud  to  believe,  sir,  that  most  of  our  young 
men  are  not  deficient  in  the  necessary  courage  to  have 
taken  the  risk ;  but  how  many  would  have  decided 
what  to  do,  and  have  acted  on  that  decision,  so 
quickly  ?" 

"  You  are  making  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole-hill,"  re- 
plied Wyndship,  consVlerably  embarrassed  by  the  prom- 
inence given  the  adventure. 

"  By  no  means  j  the  danger  was  serious  and  imminent, 


r.r.Tj.KviEW.  91 

&s  you  would  very  well  know  were  you  iDetter  acquainted 
with  the  reptiles  that  infest  our  Southern  swamps.  Be- 
sides, it  is  often  in  minor  matters  that  great  qualities  are 
first  exhibited." 

"  In  the  spring,  iNIr.  AYyndship,  when  fishing  and  pic- 
nic parties  are  in  season,  you  will  meet  with  your  re- 
ward," said  his  hostess  kindly.  "  All  the  young  ladies 
will  be  wanting  you  as  an  escort." 

With  increased  embarrassment  he  looked  around  for 
something  to  change  the  subject,  and  he  perceived  Elma 
watching  him  across  the  table,  smilingly  enjoying  his 
confusion. 

' '  And  when  we  go  muscadine-hunting  next  summer, 
we  will  be  certain  to  secure  your  services,"  she  said. 

"Or,  rather,  those  of  my  boots,"  he  answered,  desper- 
ately. 

"Oh,  we  will  need  you  to  use  them." 

"  What  are  muscadines.  Miss  Owens?" 

"  You  don't  mean  that  you  are  not  acquainted  with 
muscadines,  as  well  as  moccasins?" 

"  I  must  acknowledge  my  ignorance." 

"  The  muscadine,"  said  his  host,  coming  to  his  relief, 
"  is  a  species  of  grapes  that  grow  wild  in  our  Southern 
swamps.  They  resemble  the  scuppernong  in  their 
growth  and  taste."  Much  to  Wyndship's  satisfaction, 
the  Colonel  then  branched  off  on  a  description  of  Southern 
fruits  and  flowers,  which  lasted  almost  as  long  as  the 
meal,  and  prevented  a  return  to  "  the  snake  story." 

When  again  in  the  parlor,  Elma,  as  if  desiring  to 
make  amends  for  the  "  teazing"  she  had  perpetrated  at 
the  table,  took  a  seat  near  Wyndship,  and  commenced 
describing  some  of  her  summer  experiences  in  the  Ten- 
nessee Mountains.  Slaton  followed,  however,  and  man- 
aged to  appropriate  most  of  the  conversation,  much  to 
the  other's  chagrin.  The  presence  of  a  third  party  was 
destroying  his  pleasure  ;  besides,  he  felt  indignant  that 
one  for  whom  he  had  contracted  such  a  hearty  dislike, 
should  be  so  free  with  his  —  friend.  Not  that  he  was 
jealous  —  oh,  no  —  that  would  necessitate  his  being  in 
love,  and  "  Miss  Owens  was  only  a  pleasant  companion 
and  congenial  friend."  At  first  he  thought  of  surren- 
dering his  claim  and  leaving  the  field  to  Slaton,  but  that 
course  would  destroy  all  his  hopes  of  a  pleasant  evening. 
He  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  having  to  listen  to 


92  WYNDSHIP   IS   BITTEK. 

the  discussion  of  politics  by  Colonel  Gachet  until  bed* 
time,  and  what  other  fate  could  he  expect,  were  he  once 
routed  from  his  present  position  ?  Therefore  he  recon- 
sidered this  decision,  and  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost 
in  monopolizing  her  attention  to  the  exclusion  of  Sla- 
ton,  and  for  a  short  time  Elma  had  her  hands  full  be- 
tween the  two.  Fortunately,  however,  the  Colonel  soon 
came  to  the  rescue  by  engaging  Slaton  in  conversation 
on  some  neighborhood  matter. 

Left  to  themselves,  the  next  hour  was  one  of  unal- 
loyed pleasure  to  Wyndship,  in  which, 

«' Every  moment  lightly  shaken,  ran  itself    in    golden 
sands." 

Her  friends  had  said  that  when  Elma  was  in  the  hu- 
mor to  talk,  no  one  could  be  more  entertaining.  Whether 
it  was  from  a  desire  to  entertain,  or  because  of  an  ap- 
preciative auditor  who  could  understand  and  sympathize 
with  her  thoughts,  is  immaterial ;  but  at  any  rate,  if  she 
purposely  desired  to  please  and  fascinate  the  Yankee 
teacher,  she  could  not  possibly  have  excelled  herself. 
Her  personal  attractions  had  already  dazzled  his  eyes, 
and  now  the  finer  and  more  subtle  allurements  of  her 
mind  and  heart  were  weaving  their  potent  spell.  Min- 
ute by  minute  the  invisible  cords  were  twining  and 
tightening  more  securely  around  him,  while  he,  all  un- 
conscious of  his  fate,  seemed  to  be  greedily  absorbing 
the  sweets  the  gods  had  provided,  as  if  the  i^resent  bliss 
could  last  forever.  The  presence  of  others  in  the  room 
was  forgotten,  or  only  remembered  as  if  in  a  dream,  as 
he  eagerly  caught  each  word  as  it  fell  from  the  perfect 
lips,  and  marked  each  sparkle  in  the  dazzling  eyes. 

But  his  cup  of  bliss  had  its  dregs,  and  before  he  knew 
it,  the  wine  was  exhausted,  and  the  bitter  in  his  mouth. 
Elma  sudilenly  halted  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  to  hear 
what  Slaton  was  telling  the  others.  The  Colonel  had 
finished  his  topic  vrith  Arthur,  and  retired,  and  the  lat- 
ter, thinking,  possibly,  that  it  would  be  useless  to  re- 
new his  contest  v/ith  Wyndship,  had  joined  the  other 
couple.  The  remark  that  attracted  Elma's  attention 
was  made  somewhat  louder  than  the  ordinary  conversa- 
tional tone. 


i:i:m,i:\  ii:\v.  93 

"  There  is  going  to  be  a  mriiriage  in  ^Milledgeville, 
soon." 

"  Who  are  the  parties?'   inquired  Moliie. 

Before  answering,  he  satisfied  himself  by  one  quick 
glance  that  all  in  the  room  were  listening  for  his  an- 
swer, and  then  said,  in  a  voice  distinct  enough  to  reach 
the  ears  of  all : 

''  The  lady,  I  believe,  is  an  acquaintance  of  yours 
—  Mrs.  Wilkerson,  the  rich  young  widow.  The  gentle- 
man is  named  Smith,  and  he  has  been  head  clerk  in  Dar- 
nell &  Jones'  dry-goods  store  for  the  past  two  or  three 
years.  He  is  from  Massachusetts,  I  believe — or  from 
one  of  the  New  England  States  ;  and  like  most  of  our 
friends  from  the  North,  is  going  to  feather  his  nest  very 
nicely  by  his  venture  in  the  matrimonial  line.  You 
know  they  always  keep  an  eye  on  the  main  chance,  and 
in  all  their  undertakings,  a  sharp  look-out  for  the  prof- 
its." 

There  was  not  one  in  the  room  but  fully  understood 
the  object,  or  knew  the  animus  that  prompted  this  speech, 
and  the  mouent's  silence  that  followed  was  appalling. 

Wyndship  was  dazed,  the  effect  being  pretty  much 
the  same  as  if  a  bucket  of  ice-water  had  been  unexpect- 
edly thrown  over  him.  His  lute  string  had  been  sud- 
denly broken,  his  dream  rudely  dispelled,  and  for  the 
instant  chaos  was  the  result.  Then  came  the  reaction 
with  a  hot  flush  of  indignation  and  wrath.  His  face 
burnt ;  his  eyes  flashed  fire.  Had  he  and  Slaton  been 
alone  at  the  time,  undoubtedly  the  latter  w^ould  have 
suffered  for  the  sneering  insinuation.  He  struggled  hard 
to  retain  his  self-control,  and  to  hide  the  passion  that 
wa3  boiling  in  his  breast,  fortunately  remembering  that 
a  pair  of  dark  eyes  were  anxiously  watching  his  face  ; 
although  he  did  not  understand,  hardly  heard,  in  fact, 
the  remark  that  she  kindly  made  to  break  the  pointed 
silence. 

With  the  most  perfect  assurance  imaginable,  Slaton 
crossed  the  room  to  where  the  two  were  sitting,  and 
asked  Elma  to  favor  them  all  wath  some  music. 

"  After  a  while,  Mr.  Slaton,"  she  coolly  rejoined,  and 
turning  again  to  Wyndship,  attempted  to  renew  their 
conversation.  The  charm,  however,  had  been 
broken,  and  she  could  only  elicit  short,  but  respectful 
replies.     Despairing   of   success,   and   still  wishing  to 


94  WYNDSHIP   IS   BITTEN. 

make  some  amends  for  the  iusult  he  had  received,  aS 
well  as  to  soothe  his  wounded  feelings,  she  said,  with 
just  a  tinge  of  coquetry  : 

"  I  don't  believe  you  want  to  hear  me  play   to-night." 

"  Oh,  3^es  —  besides,  there  is  your  friend  waiting  for 
you.  I'll  not  detain  you."  Motioning  towards  Slaton, 
Yv'ho  stood  hj  the  piano  looking  at  some  music,  and 
still  wearing  his  air  of  child-like  innocence. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  words  and  manner,  there- 
fore, somewhat  nettled,  she  left  him  without  another 
word. 

AYyndship  felt  like  he  must  do  something,  so  he 
moved  nearer  a  table,  and  taking  up  a  photograph  al- 
bum, aimlessly  commenced  turning  over  the  leaves. 
Mollie  approached,  and  endeavored  to  entertain  him  by 
naming  and  describing  the  persons  whose  pictures  it  con- 
tained. This  was  hard  work  for  both  of  them — he  find- 
ing it  impossible  to  even  affect  an  interest  in  what  she 
was  saying.  The  room  felt  hot  and  close,  his  collar 
choked  him,  and  he  longed  for  an  excuse  to  get  out  into 
the  open  air.     At  last,  in  desperation,  he  said : 

"  Miss  Gachet,  can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  your 
father?" 

"  I  expect  he  is  in  the  library,  Mr.  Wyndship.  I'll  go 
and  see." 

"  No"  —  qnickly  detaining  her —  "  I  know  the  room, 
and  will  go  in  there." 

He  found  the  Colonel  alone,  occupied  with  his  papers. 

"Come  in —  come  in  and  have  a  seat.  Tired  of  young 
folks'  nonsense,  eh?" 

"  I  don't  wish  to  interrupt  you,  Colonel,  and  have  just 
stepped  in  to  bid  j^ou  good-night." 

"  Ah,  your  long  ride  this  morning  has  tired  you, 
and  you  wi&h  to  retire  ?  I  should  have  thought  of  that 
sooner,  knowing  that  you  were  not  used  to  equestrian 
exercise.  Well,  I  wiU  ring  for  Tony,  who  will  atten.. 
you  to  your  room." 

"  But  I  am  going  to  return  to  Mr.  Martin's  to-night, 
and  just  came — " 

"What!  going  back  to-night?  Why,  we  expected 
you  to  remain  until  to-morrow  —  you  must  remain." 

"  I'd  better  return  to-night,  I  expect." 

"  Oh,  no ;  lam  sure  there  exists  no  necessity  for 
your  returning." 


belli:  VIEW.  95 

Wyudship  hesitated,  trying  to  tliiiik  of  some  excuse 
to  offer —  something  behind  which  the  real  reason  might 
be  hid. 

''  I  fear  you  have  hot  found  your  visit  pleasant,  to 
wish  to  leave  us  now?" 

"Oh,  yes  I  have — that  is  not  the  reason,  I  assure  you, 
but  I — ''  he  started  to  say,  expected  to  return  when  he 
came,  but  the  recollection  that  this  was  not  the  truth, 
checked  him.  "  I — I  ought  to  be  at  home  early  in  the 
morning.  I  promised  to  assist  Johnnie  Hall  with  his 
Sunday  school  lesson." 

"  Then  if  you  will  go,  I  will  order  Tony  to  get  the 
buggy  out.  Come  in  and  have  a  seat ;  it  Avill  not  take 
him  long." 

"  You  must  not  go  to  that  trouble.  The  distance  is 
short,  and  I  can  easily  walk  it." 

The  Colonel  bridled  up  in  an  instant. 

"  Mr.  AVyndship,  I  hope  that  you  do  not  think  that  I 
would  allow  a  guest  of  mine  to  walk  to  Somerville  at 
this  time  in  the  night,  when  I  have  a  servant,  a  horse, 
and  a  vehicle  idle.  No,  sir,  Antonius  muct  either  take 
3^ou  home,  or  you  must  stay." 

There  was  no  doubt  of  his  host's  firmness  on  this 
point,  so  AVyndship  saw  that  he  must  either  abandon  his 
intention,  or  accept  the  coiive3^ance.  It  was  then  grow- 
ing late,  and  he  disliked  to  cause  the  extra  trouble,  so 
why  not  remain  ?  He  could  walk  home  in  the  morning 
before  breakfast,  before  the  family  were  stirring ;  be- 
sides, his  "  heat"  had  been  gradually  subsiding  since 
leaving  the  parlor  and  it  no  longer  seemed  so  impossible 
for  him  to  spend  the  night  at  Belleview. 

"  Rather  than  put  Tony  to  so  much  unncessary 
trouble,  I  will  remain  until  morning,  and  walk  home  be- 
fore breakfast." 

"Very  sensibly  decided,  all  but  the  'before  break- 
fast.' " 

"  I  must  certainly  go  before  breakfast,"  insisted  the 
young  man,  taking  a  seat.  The  idea  of  returning  to  the 
parlor  was  now  even  more  unendurable  than  that  of  dis- 
cussing politics  with  his  host ;  particularly,  as  he  knew  that 
the  latter  would  do  most  of  the  talking,  and  would  only 
require  a  passive  listener.  This  would  give  him  time  to 
regain  his  cquanimit3^  An  editorial  which  the  Colonel 
had  just  read   in   his   favorite  newspaper,    "The   New 


96  MRS.    MARTIN    SPEAKS    HER    MTND. 

York  Day  Book,"  gave  him  a  congenial  subject ;  conse- 
quently, as  a  listener  was  all  he  wanted,  the  two  could 
not  have  been  better  suited. 

About  bed-time  they  were  interrupted  by  Charley 
Hurst,  who  came  in  to  say  good-night,  and  propose  to 
Wyndship  that  he  accompany  him  down  to  his  father's 
plantation  some  Friday  evening,  and  go  "  coon-hunt- 
ing" with  the  negroes.  "An  amusement,"  he  added, 
"  that  will  be  entirely  new  to  you,  I  dare  say,  and  whose 
novelty  will  make  it  enjoyable,  notwithstanding  its 
roughness." 

Wyndship  suspected  that  this  extra  courtesy  was  in- 
tended as  some  reparation  for  the  insult  he  had  re- 
ceived from  Slaton,  and  thanked  him  without  either  ac- 
cepting or  rejecting  the  invitation.  Slaton  left  at  the 
same  time  that  Hurst  did,  and  soon  after  the  family  and 
their  guest  retired  to  their  rooms.  Notwithstanding  the 
sedative  effects  of  the  Colonel's  politics,  our  3'oung 
friend  had  some  hours  of  restlessness  in  which  to  think 
over  the  events  of  the  past  twelve  hours,  and  ponder 
over  the  intent  and  meaning  of  Slaton's  fling  at  Nortliern 
fortune-hunters. 

He  arose  next  morning  at  sunrise,  intending  to  slip 
avvay  without  disturbing  any  of  the  household,  but  in 
this,  he  again  reckoned  without  his  host.  Before  he 
had  finished  putting  on  his  clothing,  Tony  appeared  to 
give  his  coat  and  boots  another  brushing,  and  to  inform 
him  that  the  buggy  was  ready  whenever  he  wished  to 
leave.  The  use  of  the  latter  he  was  compelled  to  ac- 
cept, as  Tony  declared  that  "  Ole  Marsa  would  des  eber 
lastin'  skin  dis  nigger  er  live,  if  I  wus  ter  let  yer 
walk." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WrNDSHIP  AS  A  PHILOSOPHER MRS.  MARTIN  SPEAKS    HER 

MIND. 

As  we  have  noticed,  all  the  hours  that  Wyndship 
spent  in  bed  that  Saturday  night,  were  not  devoted  to 
sleep ;  to  the  contrary,  he  wooed  the  fair  goddess  of 
dreams  unsuccessfully  for  a  long  time,  before  she  deigned 
to  notice  his  supplications.     But  these  hours  of  restless- 


BELLEVIEW.  97 

ness  were  expended  in  a  profitable  occupation,  or  else 
he  greatly  deceived  himself.  He  survej^ed  the  incidents 
of  the  last  twelve  hours  as  calmly  and  dispassionately  as 
the  condition  of  his  brain  would  allow  ;  coming  to  what 
he  considered,  as  a  wise  and  unalterable  decision  in  re- 
gard to  his  present  condition  and  future  course.  He 
acknoAvledged  to  himself  that  he  had  found  the  society  of 
Miss  Owens  peculiarly  agreeable — that  she  had  come 
nearer  filling  his  ideal  of  a  perfect  woman  than  anyone 
he  had  ever  met — but  all  this  was  nothing  to  him.  Were 
she  ten  times  more  lovely  and  attractive,  she  would  still 
be  Miss  Owens,  the  heiress,  with  whom  he  could  hold  no 
possible  relation  ;  not  even  that  of  a  friend,  for  no  mat- 
ter how  pure  and  disinterested  his  intentions  might  be, 
they  would  still  be  subject  to  misconstruction  by  others. 
Were  he  to  seek  her  society  i:)urely  for  friendship's  sake, 
his  motives  would  be  derided  and  condemned  as  those  of 
a  fortune  hunter.  Aye,  on  the  strength  of  this  one  visit 
to  Belleview,  Slaton  would  be  telling  it  about  through 
the  neighborhood,  that  the  new  Yankee  teacher  was  al- 
ready trying  to  ''  feather  his  nest"  by  making  love  to 
the  richest  girl  in  the  county.  This  was  gall  and  worm- 
wood to  his  soul,  and  he  mentally  resolved,  that  if  he 
ever  heard  of  his  doing  so,  he  would  choke  the  black 
lie  down  his  throat.  On  the  account  of  such  misrepre- 
sentations of  his  motives,  he  must  avoid  even  the  ap- 
pearance of  evil,  and  deny  himself  even  the  pleasure  of 
her  friendship.  He  realized  how  great  a  deprivation  this 
would  be,  but  then  he  would  suffer  a  far  greater  loss  be- 
fore he  would  knowingly  assume,  in  appearance  even, 
the  role  of  a  fortune-hunter,  and  subject  his  character 
and  motives  to  the  aspersion  of  such  a  reptile  as  Sla- 
ton. 

Were  he  as  deeply  in  love  with  her  now  as  he  felt  that 
he  could  love  such  a  woman — a  love  as  deep  and  bound- 
less as  eternity — still  he  would  conquer  the  passion, 
subdue  and  destroy  it,  no  matter  what  might  be  the  cost. 
But,  thank  Heaven,  this  was  not  the  case,  he  was  not 
in  love,  and  so  long  as  he  kept  his  senses,  would  take 
care  not  to  be. 

**  What  care  I  how  fair  she  be, 
If  she  be  not  fair  for  me?" 

This  point  being  settled,  it  only  remained  for  hun  to 


98  MRS.    MARTIN    SPEAKS    HER    MIND. 

pursue  such  a  course,  to  so  conduct  himself  the  few 
times  he  would  be  thrown  in  her  company,  as  to  give  no. 
grounds  for  the  accusation.  This,  he  decided,  would  be 
easy  enough,  as  he  would  have  no  time  to  waste  in  the 
pleasures  of  society.  The  future  that  he  had  mapped 
out  for  himself  did  not  permit  of  such  indulgences  now 
— as  it  was  to  be  accomplished  by  his  own  efforts,  he 
would  have  no  time  for  dilly-dallying.  The  ladder  of 
fame  and  fortune  stood  before  him,  and  up  its  treach- 
erous rounds  he  must  climb,  with  the  only  assistance 
of  youth,  good  health,  and  determination.  Hitherto, 
aml)ition  had  been  a  duty,  and  the  goal  only  the  result 
of  the  labor  which  Providence  had  decreed  for  his  hands 
to  do — the  laurel  crown  had  been  coveted,  more  because 
it  was  the  reward  of  a  well-completed  task,  than  for 
any  satisfaction  to  be  derived  in  its  possession.  But 
now — this  night — there  had  come  a  change  ;  ambition 
had  suddenly  developed  into  a  passion  so  intense,  that 
it  seemed  impossible  to  await  the  slow  fruition  of  usual 
events.  The  goal  must  be  reached  by  some  shorter 
route — by  some  flight  that  would  annihilate  the  long  and 
dusty  highway.  But  how  was  this  to  be  done?  Had 
he  discovered  a  royal  road  to  the  mountain-top  ?  Many 
another  young  imagination  of  twenty-five  summers  have 
thought  they  had,  and  why  shouldn't  he?  Few  young 
men  have  started  out  to  win  fame,  who  expected  to  wear 
a  silvery  crown  before  they  gained  the  green  one. 

When  all  this  had  been  accomplished — when  the 
masses  of  mediocrity  were  far  below,  instead  of  all 
around  him,  then  he  would  select  just  such  a  woman  as 
Elma  Owens  for  a  wife.  Ah,  but  would  he  find  her? 
"Would  he  ever  again  meet  with  her  counterpart?  The 
question  went  like  a  knife  through  his  heart,  and  : 

•'  Thou  Shalt  hear  the  *  Never,  never,'  whispered  by  the  phan- 
tom years.' " 


*'What,  back  already?  When  did  you  come,  last 
night,  or  this  morning  ?"  was  Mr.  Martin's  greeting,  as 
he  walked  in|to  breakfast. 

"This  morning." 
•     **Acid   so  m^  wife   sacrificed  her   feelings   of    per- 


BELLEVIEW.  00 

sonal  security  in  leaving  the  front  door  unlocked  for  no 
purpose.  I  expect  she  imagined  that  there  was  a  burg- 
lar under  every  bed  in  the  house  before  morning,  \yell, 
it  is  just  what  I  expected." 

*'I  didn't  get  up  to  look  for  any,  Mr.  "Wyndship. 
You  remember  what  he  told  you  yesterday  morning, 
about  the  door  never  being  locked  ;  so  there  was  no  sac- 
rifice in  the  matter.  You  need  never  apprehend  giving 
us  any  trouble  by  coming  home  late." 

"  I  did  intend  coming  last  night,  but  Colonel  Gachet 
would  not  hear  to  my  walking — insisted  on  having  a 
horse  and  buggy  brought  out — so  I  concluded  to  stay  all 
night." 

"  And,  '  like  an  Arab,'  silently  stole  away  this  morn- 
ing before  the  family  were  awake." 

"That  was  my  intention,  but  before  I  was  fairly 
di'essed,  Tony  came  up  and  notified  me  that  the  buggy 
was  ready.  So  you  see,  I  did  not  get  to  walk,  after 
all.  I  did  not  see  any  of  the  family,  however,  and  ex- 
pect they  were  all  asleep." 

''Did  you  enjoy  your  visit  much?" 

"  Very  much  indeed,"  he  responded,  with  a  mental 
reservation  as  to  part.  He  proceeded  to  describe  his 
experiences  at  Belleview  at  length,  omitting,  however, 
two  incidents — that  of  the  snake  encounter,  and  Slaton's 
criticism  of  Northern  fortune-hunters.  Of  neither  of 
these  could  he  bring  himself  to  speak  ;  in  fact,  a  listener 
would  have  thought  that  most  of  his  time  had  been  spent 
on  the  plantation,  and  that  there  was  where  he  found 
the  only  items  of  interest,  so  chary  was  he  in  relating 
the  occurrences  of  the  afternoon. 

In  pursuance  of  the  resolution  he  had  made  to  him- 
self, he  returned  to  his  duties  Monday  morning  with  re- 
newed zeal.  In  the  wearying  routine  and  exasperating 
labors  of  the  school-room,  he  expected  to  banish  from 
his  mind  the  fascinating  effects  of  his  glimpse  into 
"  paradise."  A  less  conscientious  man,  knowing  that 
his  present  pursuit  was  only  a  temporary  occupation,  to 
be  discarded  as  soon  as  he  obtained  the  necessary  funds 
to  commence  the  practice  of  law,  would  have  thrown  in- 
to his  labors  just  enough  zeal  to  have  secured  his  reten- 
tion, and  no  more.  But  with  Wyndship,  duty  was  a 
sacred  word.  The  maxim,  "  Whatsoever  thine  hand 
find  to  do,  do  it  with  all  thy  might,"  had  been  early   in- 


160  JIRS.    MAllTIN    SPEAKS    HER    MIND. 

stilled  into  his  youthful  mind.  Besides,  he  thought, 
what  better  antidote  can  there  be  for  the  poison  of  dis- 
content, than  engrossing  occupation—  what  better  means 
of  expelling  from  his  thoughts  the  tantalizing  fancies, 
the  insidious  longings,  that  had  been  excited  by  that 
visit  to  Beileview?  What  ever  means  were  needed, 
what  ever  exertions  that  were  necessery,  must  be  used 
for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object ;  and  the  sooner, 
the  better.  His  future  welfare,  his  honor,  and  his  self- 
respect  demanded  it.  He  did  not  add  happiness,  because 
he  did  not  consider  that  in  the  least  involved — his  hap- 
piness, like  his  fortune,  was  to  be  self-made,  and  would 
be  all  right  as  soon  as  he  got  rid  of  this  delirium  of  his 
imagination. 

But  the  ensuing  two  weeks  did  not  bring  the  relief  he 
expected ;  despite  all  his  resolves,  and  all  his  efforts, 
the  delirium  would  not  be  cured.  Often  and  again,  a 
lovely  face  and  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  would  arise  before 
the  figures  with  which  he  was  elucidating  a  problem,  and 
a  voice,  w^hose  thrilling  tones  icoidd  be  heard,  would 
arise  above  the  monotonous  droning  of  his  grammar 
class.  In  vain  he  took  himself  to  task  for  such  shame- 
ful weakness.  Self-indignation  did  not  exorcise  the 
spectre.  Then,  too,  fate  seemed  to  be  determined  to 
bring  about  chance  meetings  with  the  siren.  Once  at 
the  church,  where  he  accompanied  Mrs.  Martin  the  next 
Sunday.  After  services  were  over,  his  companion 
stopped  at  the  door  to_  speak  with  Elma,  and  of  course 
he  had  to  do  likewise.  Again,  one  evening  after  school, 
he  came  face  to  face  with  her  in  a  store,  where  he  had 
gone  to  make  some  little  purchase,  and  common  courtesy 
required  a  response  to  her  pleasant  greeting,  and, 
also,  that  he  attend  her  across  the  street  to  her  convey- 
ance. 

All  this  could  not  be  prevented,  but  he  reassured  him- 
self that  his  own  strength  would  prevent  any  disastrous 
results.  AVhat  harm  was  being  done  ;  even  if  he  could 
find  no  pleasanter  subject  for  thought  in  the  solitude  of 
his  evenings — even  if  her  face  did  appear  occasionally 
in  his  dreams  ?  If  we  could  not  store  delightful  experi- 
ences away  in  our  memories  for  future  entertainment, 
how  fleeting  would  be  the  pleasure  we  would  derive 
from  the  beauties  of  art  and  nature  ?  Moreover,  had  he 
not  already  resolved  in  his  own  mind  that  he  would   not 


BELLEVIEW.  101 

fall  in  love  with  Elma  Owens  ?  and  did  not  this  resolve 
settle  the  matter?  "VYhat  greater  safeguard  could  he 
possibly  have?  Experience,  that  inexorable  teacher,  had 
not  yet  taught  him  that  "man's  resolutions  were  des- 
tiny's shuttle-cocks,"  and  that  what  we  most  resolve 
not  to  do,  is  often  the  very  thing  we  are  most  certain  to 
do.  Thus,  at  one  time  determining  to  avoid  exposure  to 
temptation  as  much  as  possible  ;  and  at  another,  that 
this  precaution  was  wholly  unnecessary — that  he  was 
proof  against  all  temptations  from  that  quarter — he  beat 
back  and  forth,  utterly  unconscious  of  his  own  incon- 
sistency, and  thinking  about  her  all  the  time — the  most 
dangerous  thing  he  could  possibly  do. 

The  month  of  September  passed  by,  and  the  lingering 
heat  of  summer  gave  place  to  the  cool  nights  and  pleas- 
ant days  of  October.  Nature  slowly  doffing  her  rustic 
suit  of  green,  began  to  assume  the  royal  robes  of  au- 
tumn, dyed  in  the  brilliant  hues  of  scarlet  and  purple. 
The  seats  on  the  open  porch  were  voted  too  cool  for  oc- 
cupation after  supper,  and  were  discarded  for  the  more 
comfortable  ones  in  Mrs.  Martin's  sitting-room,  where, 
by  every  admissible  means,  the  old  couple  endeavored 
to  entice  Wyndship  away  from  his  studies.  In  the  short 
time  he  had  been  with  them,  he  had  thoroughly  won  their 
esteem  and  confidence,  and  they  left  nothing  undone  to 
make  his  home  with  them  a  pleasant  one.  Doubting  the 
sufficiency  of  their  own  company  to  satisfy  his  social 
cravings,  tliey  tried,  in  different  ways,  to  bring  him  in- 
to contact  with  that  element  of  Somerville  society  that 
they  tliought  would  be  most  congenial.  Of  course  tliis 
element  included  the  family  at  Belleview — Mrs.  Martin 
having  seemingly  changed  her  mind  as  far  as  danger  to 
him  was  concerned,  either  deceived  by  his  apparent  in- 
difference, or  else  thinking  the  chances  of  his  meeting 
T>'ith  a  disappointment  less  than  she  at  first  supposed. 

Among  the  devices  she  thought  of  to  add  to  his  enjoy- 
ment was  that  of  having  a  "  social"  party  at  her  own 
house.  Ever  since  they  were  married  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  give  the  young  people  occasional  entertain- 
ments of  this  character,  and  "  Mrs.  Martin's  socials" 
had  become  one  of  the  institutions  of  the  neighborhood, 
deservedly  popular  with  both  sexes.  So  one  evening 
about  the  middle  of  the  month,  before  Wyndship  re- 
tired to  his  night  studies,  she  broached  the  subject. 


102  IVmS.    MARTIN    SPEAKS   HER   MIND. 

''  Some  of  the  young  people  have  been  begging  me  to 
give  them  a  '  sociable,'  "  she  said,  '^and  I  believe  1  will 
have  to  comply." 

Wyndship  looked  up  with  some  interest,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  I  know  you  must  find  it  very  dull  here,"  she  con- 
tinued, addressing  him  direct,  "  and  that  would  help  you 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  young  folks." 

' '  You  are  mistaken  ;  I  do  not  find  it  dull  here  in  the 
least." 

''Oh,  but  you  must.  Don't  you  think,  now,  that  it 
will  be  a  pleasant  relaxation  from  your  studies  ?  " 

"  Are  you  giving  it  for  my  benefit?  " 

''  Yes,  in  part." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  that  I  need  the  relaxation,  be- 
sides, it  will  interfere  with  my  school  duties." 

''  No  ;  I  will  have  it  on  some  Friday  night,  so  that  it 
will  not  interfere  with  your  school." 

''I  do  not  need  any  relaxation,"  he  repeated. 

"  Yes,  you  do.  You  are  injuring  your  health  by 
studying  too  hard,  and  need  more  exercise  and  recreation." 

"  My  health  is  all  right,  and  I  can  stand  much  more 
work  and  study  than  I  am  doing." 

'•  Not  in  this  climate,"  intei-posed  Mr.  Martin.  "  Re- 
member, you  haven't  been  acclimated  yet." 

"  People  don't  have  to  be  acclimated  to  such  a  de- 
lightful climate  as  this  is  now.  I  have  passed  the  dan- 
gerous month." 

Mr.  INIartin  shook  his  head,  but  said  nothing. 

''  I  don't  wish  to  be  selfish,  but  I  suspect  that  Mrs. 
Martin  intends  it  for  my  benefit ;  and  if  that  is  the  case, 
I  don't  want  her  to  go  to  the  trouble." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  will  enjoy  it?  " 

"'  Not  so  much  as  our  quiet  evenings  here  alone,  like 
this  one.  I  heard  you  say,  the  other  day,  that  you  always 
gave  some  kind  of  an  entertainment  in  Christmas  week ; 
why  not  wait  until  then  ?  " 

"Well,  if  the  3'oung  folks  will  let  me  off.  Mrs. 
Gachet  gives  Leon  a  birthday  party  next  week,  and  I 
reckon  that  will  do  for  the  present." 

"  As  for  exercise,  I  promised  Johnnie  Hall  and  two 
or  three  of  the  boys  to  go  with  them  down  to  '  the  hills,' 
as  they  called  it,  after  hickory  nuts  next  Saturday.  As 
we  will  walk,  that  will  give  me  plenty  of  exercise." 


BELLE  VIEW.  103 

*'  Rather  too  much  in  one  dose.  It  is  a  good  idea  to 
go,  but  not  to  walk.^  You  must  take  my  spring  wagon," 
said  Mr.  Martin,  who,  after  this  point  was  discussed, 
changed  the  subject,  by  remarking  : 

*'  By  the  way,  I  met  Leon  Gachet,  this  evening  in  a 
condition  that  I  was  very  sorry  to  see." 

"  He  was  not  drinking,  I  hope?"  said  his  wife,  in  a 
questioning  tone. 

''  Yes,  and  had  entirely  too  much  for  his  good.  He 
was  with  Arthur  Shiton,  returning  from  Milton,  where 
the  two  have  been  since  day  before  yesterday." 

"  What  a  pity ;  and  he  has  been  back  from  Florida  so 
short  a  time.  How  much  it  w^ill  distress  the  family,  par- 
ticularly his  father." 

"  His  father  is  not  at  home — has  gone  to  attend  a 
Breckenridge  and  Lam  mass-meeting  in  Milledgeville — 
and  the  family  will  hardly  know  anything  about  it.  They 
were  not  going  in  the  direction"  of  Belle  view",  and  I 
reckon  Arthur  will  take  care  of  him  until  he  sobers 
up." 

^' His  intimacy  with  Arthur  Slaton  is  not  going  to 
do  him  any  good,"  said  Mrs.  Martin,  with  considerable 
energy. 

**  Maybe  his  society  will  not  benefit  the  latter,  either?" 
suggested  her  husband. 

*'  It  w^on't  do  him  any  harm.  Nothing  can  do  that — 
can  make  him  any  more  despisable  than  he  is.  He  has 
some  motive  in  becoming  so  thick  with  Leon  Gachet,  and 
you  will  see  it  some  day." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  don't  appreciate  young  Mr.  Slaton's 
culture  since  he  returned  from  College,"  said  her  better- 
half,  with  a  quizzical  smile. 

''  I  would  like  to  know  w^hat  he  learnt  at  college,  but 
to  talk  glib  and  put  on  airs.  Oh,  yes,  I  forgot,  he 
learnt  to  write." 

"  To  write?"  queried  Wyndship. 

*' Yes — to  write  a  good  hand,  and  different  kinds  of 
hands,  I  mean." 

''  I  didn't  know  chirography  was  considered  so  im- 
portant in  the  South ;  I  find  great  trouble  in  getting  my 
students  interested  in  its  practice." 

"  That  is  about  Arthur  Slaton's  only  talent,  I 
reckon," 


104:  MRS.    3IARTIX    SPEAKS    HER    MIND. 

"  But  he  conducts  himself  very  well,  don't  he?"  asked 
]Mr.  Martin,  in  the  same  tone  as  before. 

' '  I  don't  care  if  he  does — that  don't  alter  my  opinion 
of  him  in  the  least.  If  there  ever  was  a  '  snake-in-the- 
grass,'  that  snake  is  Arthur  Slaton.  He  may  deceive 
some  people  by  his  hypocritical  ways,  but  not  me." 

Now  Wyndship  had  never  mentioned  Arthur's  insult- 
ing remarks  about  Northern  adventurers,  which  had  ex- 
cited his  ire  so  deeply  in  the  parlor  at  Belleview,  but 
Mollie  Gachet  had  to  Mrs.  Martin.  The  latter,  dislik- 
ing the  one,  and  esteeming  the  other  so  much,  had  re- 
sented it  keenly.  Delicacy  forbade  her  mentioning  the 
subject  to  Wyndsiiip,  so  she  made  use  of  the  opportu- 
nity to  express  in  his  presence  her  opinion  of  his  enemy, 
and  her  husband  being  in  the  secret,  and  guessing  her 
desh-e,  made  his  suggestions  in  Arthur's  favor,  that  she 
might  have  a  better  chance  to  relieve  her  mind. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

*' Well,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  she  said,  as  he  arose  to  go 
to  his  room,  "you  can  try  Mrs.  Gachet's  party,  and  if 
that  dissipation  proves  to  have  a*  bad  effect,  I  will  defer 
mine  until  Christmas." 

''  I  don't  think  I  will  attend." 

"  Why?"  she  asked,  in  real,  or  assumed  surprise. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  will  probably  not  be  invited  ; 
and  if  I  am,  will  not  go  for  the  same  reason  that  I  ob- 
jected to  yours." 

"You  will  be  invited,  I  know,  because  jMoUie  said 
she  was  glad  that  her  brother's  birthday  fell  on  Friday  on 
your  account,  and — I  want  you  to  go." 

For  what  little  things  we  will  all  change  "  our  minds" 
so  completely.  But  a  short  while  back  JMrs.  jMartin  felt 
it  her  duty  to  discourage  Wyndship  from  visiting  Belle- 
view,  and  now  she  was  urging  him  to  go.  It  is  true  that 
his  apparent  indifference  was  deceiving  her,  as  well  as 
himself,  to  the  true  state  of  the  case  ;  still,  if  she  had 
known  all,  and  even  if  he  had  avowed  a  determination 
to  lay  seige  to  Elma's  heart,  she  would  have  given  the 
same  advice  ;  and,  moreover,  have  entered  the  field  her- 
self as  a  brave  and  active  ally.  She  believed  in  fair 
play,  and  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  his  being  driven 
from  the  companionship  of  such  a  gul  as  Elma  hj  the 
sneers  of  such  a  rival  as  Arthur. 


BELLEVIEW.  1)5 

CHAPTER  X. 

PARADISE    AGAIN. 

Mrs.  Martin's  assertion  about  the  invitation  proved 
{correct,  and  with  it  came  a  note  from  Miss  Mollie,  ex- 
pressing the  hope  "  that  he  would  gratify  them  by  ac- 
cepting, etc."  Given  in  this  gracious  manner,  he  thought 
it  would  be  the  height  of  boorishness  not  to  attend.  In 
the  meantime,  he  had  met  Leon  once  or  twice,  but  either 
from  a  little  secret  unconfessed  jealousy,  or  from  some 
cropping  out  of  the  latter's  arrogance,  the  interviews  had 
not  tended  to  produce  any  friendly  feelings  on  Wynd- 
ship's  part.  He  imagined  that  the  young  Georgian  was 
rather  disposed  to  look  down  on  the  "  Yankee  teacher," 
and  his  own  sensitive  pride  took  fire  at  once.  Conse- 
quently, it  was  with  conflicting  emotions  that  he  started 
to  Belleview  on  the  appointed  evening.  A  reluctance 
to  go  where  he  had  doubts  of  his  welcome  by  all  the 
family,  was  strangely  intermingled  with  a  thrill  of  de- 
light at  the  prospects  of  once  more  tasting  the  sweets  of 
Elma's  society.  Nor  did  he  stop  to  consider  the  likeli- 
hood of  these  sweets  again  turning  to  ashes  on  his 
tongue.  Had  he  not  already  prepared  against  such  a 
result?  Had  he  not  already  decided  on  a  course,  which, 
faithfully  carried  out,  would  prevent  all  misconstruction 
of  his  motives?  Certainly  he  had.  This  time  he  would 
stand  aloof,  and  only  let  his  eyes  partake  of  the  feast. 
Even  a  beggar  might  look  at  a  queen  with  impunity. 

He  had  no  cause,  however,  to  find  fault  with  his  re- 
ception. Even  Leon's  manner  was  studiously  polite, 
and  he  showed  unusual  interest  in  procuring  him  intro- 
ductions to  such  ladies  as  he  had  not  met  before.  As 
host,  Leon  always  shone  to  best  advantnge,  for  it  was 
part  of  his  exorbitant  pride — necessary,  he  thought,  for 
the  honor  of  himself,  and  his  name,  that  lie  proved  his 
acquaintance  with,  and  his  ability  to  perform  the  duties 
of  that  position.  The  ordeal  of  entering  was  not  noar 
so  bad  as  Wyndship  expected — Mrs.  Gachet  and  Mollie 
both  received  him  too  kindly  to  doubt  their  welcome. 
When  through  with  tlie  first  introductions,  he  found  him- 
self near  a  lady  with  whom  he  was  already  slightly  ac- 
quainted, and  whom  he  knew^  to  be  of  uncertain  age,  and 
possessed  of  little  property.     Taking  the  vacant  seat  at 


106  PARADISE   AGAIN. 

her  si^le,  he  imdertook  to  add  something  to  her  enjoyment 
of  the  evenhig.  When  dancing  commenced,  Leon  cam-.' 
round  and  invited  him  to  participate,  but  finding  that 
his  companion  had  "religious  scruples,"  he  declined, 
and  continued  to  devoted  himself  to  her  entertainment. 
This  was  dull,  and  with  Ellma  just  across  the  room,  very 
hard  work,  but  he  persevered,  and  thereby  won  the  un- 
dying gratitude  of  one  who  had  too  often  played  the  role 
of  wall-flower  not  to  appreciate  his  attentions. 

This  did  not  pass  unobserved  by  those  present,  and 
more  than  one  smile  and  whisper  passed  around  about 
Miss  Sallie's  conquest,  and  the  "Teacher's  devotion  in 
so  unpromising  a  quarter." 

"  It  looks  like  love  at  first  sight,"  whispered  Slaton  to 
Elma. 

"  I  expect  it  does  to  you^'"  was  the  rejoinder,  with 
an  emphasis  he  did  not  exactly  understand,  or  relish. 

"Mr.  AY3nidship,  don't  you  dance?"  asked  MoUie, 
approaching  after  the  second  set  had  been  finished. 

"  Sometimes,  but — " 

"  Then  you  must  dance  this  set,"  she  said,  interrupt- 
ing him.     "  Miss  Sallie  will  excuse  you." 

"  Certainly,"  said  that  lady,  too  grateful  to  be  sel- 
fish. 

"  Come,  then,  and  I  will  get  you  a  partner.  Let  me 
see — there  is  Elma  ;  possibly  she  is  not  engaged — I  know 
you  would  like  to  dance  with  her." 

"  I  will  not  dance,  Miss  Gachet,  unless  you  will  be 
my  partner." 

"  Very  well,"  she  answered,  with  a  laugh,  wondermg 
why  his  face  had  turned  so  red. 

When  the  set  ended  it  left  them  near  where  Elma  was 
sitting.  Still  holding  her  partner's  arm,  Mollie  turned 
to  her  friend.  "  Now,  Elma,  you  must  sing  some- 
thing." 

"  I  expect  the  others  wish  to  dance." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  now.  Brother  has  sent  off  for  another 
violin,  and  old  Tom.  We  are  not  going  to  dance  any 
more  until  they  come.  Make  her  sing,  Mr.  Wyndship  ; 
I  know  you  want  to  hear  her  sing." 

"  Very  much,"  he  answered,  too  much  pertui'bed  to 
make  a  coherent  reply. 

"Why,  Mr.  Wyndship,"  said  Elma,  archly,  "you 
don't  expect  me  to  believe  that,  I'm  certain.     1  haven't 


BELLEVIEW.  107 

forgot  Iiow  nncorPiTionionsly  you  walked  out  of  the  room 
the  hist  time  1  tried  to  entertain  yoii  with  my  poor  sing- 
ing." 

The  flush  on  his  face,  and  the  incoherence  in  his 
speech  both  increased,  as  he  tried  to  stammer  out  some 
apology. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  try  to  explain,"  she  interrupted, 
evidently  enjoying  his  confusion  ;  "  actions  speak  louder 
than  words." 

MoUie  had  slipped  away,  leaving  him  to  his  fate,  and 
this  was  not  rendered  any  more  comfortable  by  the  fact 
that  Slaton,  not  far  off,  was  watching  his  embarrassment 
with  a  smile  of  malicious  pleasure  on  his  hypocritical 
face.  Elma  saw  the  smile,  too,  and  rising,  she  contin- 
ued in  a  softer  tone  : 

''  Revenge  is  sweet,  and  I  am  going  to  pay  you  for 
the  mortification  of  my  former  failure  by  making  you 
stop  both  ears.  I  know  you  won't  run  before  all  this 
.crowd." 

Seating  herself  at  the  instrument,  she  continued  to 
sing  until  the  arrival  of  "  Old  Tom"  and  the  other 
violin. 

"  I  have  not  stopped  my  ears.  Miss  Owens,"  said 
Wyndship,  with  a  tremor  in  his  voice  that  was  not  caused 
by  embarrassment. 

"  Then  I  have  been  ampl}^  revenged." 

Hardly  had  she  left  the  piano,  when  Arthur  approach'^d 
to  anticipat3  Wyndship  in  securing  her  for  the  set  just 
beginning. 

'^  I  am  engaged  for  all  the  dances  I  expect  to  partici- 
pate in  to-night,  thank  you,"  was  her  reply  ;  then  turn- 
ing to  Wyndship,  she  continued  :  "  I  have"  some  water- 
color  sketches  from  nature  that  I  wish  to  show  3^ou — un- 
less you  prefer  the  dancing  ?" 

^'1  prefer  looking  at  the  sketches,"  he  answered 
quickly. 

"  Then  let  us  go  into  the  other  room  ;  my  portfolio  is 
in  there  ;  besides,  it  is  not  so  crowded." 

Leon  Gachet  was  coming  up  on  the  same  errand  that 
had  proved  fruitless  to  Slaton,  just  as  she  took  Wynd- 
ship's  arm,  and  moved  away.  A  shade  of  vexa*^tion 
crossed  his  dark,  handsome  face  as  he  Avatched  their  re- 
treating forms. 

''  Disappointed?"  whispered  Slaton,  from  behind. 


108  PARADISE   AGAIN. 

"  No.  I  was  only  going  to  ofifer  to  secure  the  fellow 
a  partner,  if  he  wished  to  dance,"  Leon  answered  eva- 
sively. 

"  He  has  the  partner  he  wants.  You  could  not  suit 
liini — "  The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  lost,  as  the  other 
turned  impatiently  away.  Leon  did  not  like  to  hear 
even  his  friend  Arthur  make  such  insinuations.  Elma 
might  amuse  herself  with  the  Northerner  a  little,  but 
that  was  all,  he  thought.  Disappohitment  would  be  the 
fellow's  reward,  should  he  presume  to  fall  in  love.  i 

"  I  am  afraid.  Miss  Owens,  that  I  am  robbing  you  of 
enjoyment,"  said  Wyndship,  as  they    seated   themselves 
on  a  sofa,  with  a  large  portfolio  between  them. 
''How?" 

"  By  depriving  you  of  the  dancing." 
"  Not  much  depVivation  in   that;  I    do   not   care    for 
such  amusements,    and   if   you   can   stand   the   loss,    I 
can." 

He  did  not  tell  her  that  Paradise  itself  could  hardly 
give  him  greater  enjoyment  than  tlie  present  promised, 
but  he  could  have  done  so,  and  told  the  truth.  This 
candor,  however,  could  not  be  expected,  for  he  did  not 
himself,  at  that  time,  realize  that  such  was  the  fact. 

''  The  sketches  are  from  nature,"  she  explained,  open- 
ing the  portfolio,  "  and   are    scenes    and   views   of  the 
Cumberland  mountains  in  Tennessee,  where  I  spent  sev- 
eral Aveeks  during  the  summer." 
''  They  are  yours,  I  suppose?" 

''  No,  the  work  is  not  mine  ;  so  you  need  not  be  afraid 
to  criticize  them — that  is,  if  they  deserve  criticism.  I 
think  them  very  fine." 

The  views  were  of  wild  mountain  gorges  and  cliffs,  re- 
lieved by  occasional  bits  of  quiet,  peaceful  nature  in 
some  sleeping  valley.  They  possessed  considerable 
merit,  and  Wyndship  did  not  hesitate  to  express  his  ad- 
miration. Assured  that  his  fair  companion  was  not  the 
artist,  he  spoke  his  opinions  freely,  pointing  out  what  few 
faults  he  thought  they  contained.  But  these  were  few 
indeed ;  with  her  soft  breath  upon  his  cheek,  and  her 
white,  graceful  hand  and  wrist  so  near  his  own,  it  was 
not  within  his  power  to  find  fault  with  anything.  Had 
the  drawings  been  ever  so  ordinary,  her  presence,  the 
radiance,  the  glamour  that  surrounded  him,  would  have 
gilded  and  glorified  them  into  something  divine. 


BELLEYIEW.  109 

From  this  their  conversation  drifted  to  other  subjects, 
to  the  incidents  of  her  visit,  to  books,  literature,  ? nd 
even  into  the  dangerous  field  of  poetry.  Elma  could  not 
onl}^  talk  Tvell  herself,  but  she  also  had  the  rare  tact  of 
making  her  companion  talk.  She  made  him  forget  his 
personality — forget  the  resolves  he  had  so  lately 
formed — forget  their  relative  positions,  of  the  rich 
Southern  heiress  and  the  poor  Northern  teaclier ;  and 
made  him  exhibit  the  inner  and  better  side  of  his  char- 
acter and  mind,  and  in  doing  so,  laid  bare  her  own  most 
brilliant  and  attractive  side.  Nor  was  the  enjoyment  all 
on  one  side.  Every  one  she  met  did  not  yield  so  readily 
to  the  touch  of  her  magic  wand.  To  meet  with  one  who 
could  understand  and  apj:>reciate  her  finer  thoughts  and 
feelings,  and  follow  her  vivid  flights  of  imagination,  was 
a  treat,  not  the  less  enjoyable  on  account  of  its  rarity. 
So  to  the  two,  the  minutes  took  to  themselves  golden 
wings  and  flew  away,  leaving  them  all  unconscious  of 
their  departure. 

As  the  seductive  pleasures  of  the  card-table,  or  the 
wine-glass  plays  sad  ha'^'oc  with  resolutions  of  reform, 
and  causes  the*^  tempted  to  forget  the  vows  of  an  awak- 
ened conscience,  so  did  AVyndship,  intoxicated  by  the 
nectar  held  to  his   lips,    forget   his   former   experience. 

How  could  there  be  dregs  in  so  delicious  a  draught? 

*  *  *  *  * 

"  Oh,  here  she  is,  Mr.  Gachet ;  we  have  found  her  at 
last."  The  speaker  was  a  ycTung  lady  from  Milton,  and 
was  accompanied  by  Leon  Gachet.  "  We  have  been 
looking  for  j^ou  everywhere,  Elma" — everywhere  meant 
throughout  the  other  room — "  and  feared  some  genii  had 
carried  you  away."  Genii  and  magician  were  all  the 
same  in  that  young  ladj^'s  lexicon. 

"  They  have  brought  me  back,  dear  Miss  Catherine  — 
if  they  did." 

The  young  lady  pouted  her  childish  lips  in  momentary 
displeasure.  She  abhorred  the  name  of  Catherine  and 
wished  to  be  called  Kate.  A  feeling  of  irritation  at  the 
interruption,  prompted  Elma  to  the  little  act  of  spite, 
which  she  regretted  a  moment  afterwards. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  interrupt  your  tete-a-tete,"  said  Leon, 
in  a  tone  that  brought  W^^ndship  to  his  senses  with  a 
jerk  ;  "  but  mother  is  inquiring  for  you." 

^' AVhere  is  Mrs   Gachet?" 


110  PARADISE    AGAIN. 


u 


In  the  other  room.  I  think  supper  is  ready,  hut 
possibly  you  two  were  too  much  al)Soii)ed  in  art  and  its 
kindred  subject,  to  care  for  such  an  earthly  occupation 
as  eating,  just  now?" 

Elma  coolly  ignored  the  taunt  implied  in  his  words. 
Opening  her  watch,  she  exclaimed,  in  accents  of  sur- 
prise:  "  Wh}^  it  has  been  an  hour  and  a  half,  Mr. 
Wyndship,  and  still  you  haven't  examined  them  all — " 
but  very  little  of  the  time  had  been  devoted  to  the  sketches 
— .  "  Well,  we  will  have  to  finish  the  inspection  some 
other  time." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  best,  though,  if  it  is  important, 
I  can  make  your  excuses,"  said  Leon  again,  in  the  same 
manner. 

''  Thank  you.  We  will  not  give  you  that  trouble," 
Elma  answered,  defiantly. 

W^aidship  straightened  himself  up,  and  for  ini  instant 
the  two  men  looked  each  other  squarely  in  the  eyes. 
After  that  look  neither  of  them  ever  had  any  doubts  as 
to  the  relation  they  were  to  hold  to  each  other.  TuruiVjig 
to  Elma,  Wyndship  said  : 

"  I  must  apologize,  Miss  Owens,  for  selfishly  con- 
suming so  much  of  your  time.  I  had  no  idea  that  it  had 
been  so  long." 

"  Why  should  you?  I  am  sure  that  no  harm  has  been 
done — I  have  enjo^^ed  the  hour  and  a  half  as  much  as 
you  have." 

This  frank  admission,  which  was  uttered  in  a  voice 
sufficiently  loud  to  reach  the  ears  of  ail  in  the  room, 
caused  "Miss  Catherine"  to  open  her  eyes  in  blank  as- 
tonishment. In  the  conventional  school  where  she  had 
received  her  training,  young  ladies  were  not  taught  to 
express  themselves  quite  so  candidly,  in  speaking  of 
their  enjoyment  of  young  gentlemen's  society.  Leon 
bit  his  lips  in  the  effort  to  suppress  his  vexation,  and  his 
strong  desire  to  throw  off  the  restraints  of  politeness 
long  enough  to  invite  the  Yankee  to  leave  the  house. 
Wyndship's  emotions  were  more  varied — admiration  for 
his  fair  companion's  brave  independence,  aburningdesire 
to  openl}^  resent  what  he  regarded  as  Leon's  impertinence, 
and  remorse  for  so  soon  breaking  his  self-imposed  rule 
of  conduct — his  "  lapsus  crimen"  under  the  first  tempta- 
tion. Elma  alone  looked  perfectly  unconcerned,  as  she 
coolly  took  his  arm  to  be  taken  to  Mrs.  Gachet. 


BELLEVIEW.  Ill 

**By  the  T\'ay,"  she  said,  as  they  left  the  room,  *'have 
you  met  my  friend,  Mr.  Harris  ?" 

*'  No,  I  think  not." 

*'  Well,  I  want  you  to  know  him.  He  is  here  to-night 
— happened  here  accidentally,  on  business.  He  was 
a  very  dear  friend  of  my  father's,  and  I  esteem  him  very 
highly." 

She  was  not  satisfied  with  the  wish  alone,  but  imme- 
diately hunted  the  gentleman  up,  and  introduced  them. 
To  \Vyudship's  secret  satisfaction,  Mr.  Harris  turned 
out  to  be.  not  a  young  man,  but  one  apparently  between 
forty  and  fifty,  ayIio  seemed  to  have  quite  a  fatherly  re- 
gard for  Elma.  He  also  found  him  very  pleasant  and 
agreeable. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

INSANITY  BY  THE  ^TIOLESALE. 

The  beautiful  month  of  October  passed  like  a  dream, 
but  its  pleasant  days  and  cool  nights  had  no  effect  in 
allaying  the  1)urning  fever  of  political  passion,  whose 
delirium  had  taken  fast  hold  on  the  American  people, 
threatening  the  life  of  the  "  Great  Republic."  Under 
its  maddening  frenzy,  all  restraints  of  reason  and  pm- 
dence  were  cast  aside  ;  while  from  border  to  border,  from 
ocean  to  ocean,  the  masses  raved  like  Bedlam  turned  loose. 
The  counsels  of  prudence,  andof  statesmanship,  were  un- 
heeded and  each  faction  seemed  determined  on  carrying  out 
its  particular  line  of  policy,  regardless  of  what  the  conse- 
quences might  be  to  themselves  or  to  the  country.  One 
party  alone  appeared  to  have  some  method  in  its  mad- 
ness, and  amidst  the  wild  confusion,  was  delivering 
deadly  blows  to  its  divided  and  warring  opponents. 
The  young  giant  of  Republicanism,  enthused  with  the 
fanaticism  of  reform,  was  seizing  every  coigne  of  advan- 
tage, and  making  such  rapid  strides  of  conquest  in  the 
North  and  West,  that  no  second  sight  was  necessary  to 
foretell  its  coming  victory. 

"  Whom  the  Gods  destroy,  they  first  make  mad," 
was  never  more  strikingly  exemplified  than  it  was  that 
fateful  year,  in  the  condition  of  the  Democratic  party.  At 
the  very  time  v^hen  harmonious  action  was    most   ueces- 


112  insaxiTy  by  the  whulesalk. 

sary  for  success  ;  when  all  its  combined  strength  was 
needed  to  resist  the  attacks  of  an  aggressive  adversary, 
it  was  torn  with  dissension,  divided  in  policy  and  lead- 
ers, and  seemed  determined  only  on  self-destruction. 
The  idiotic  blindness  and  criminal  folly  of  its  pilots  had 
driven  the  good  old  ship  on  the  breakers,  where  the 
waves  of  disaster  were  beating  with  irresistible  force 
against  its  bulwarks,  threatening  to  submerge  not  only  it, 
but  the  government  it  had  so  long  protected.  As  the 
*'  Ides  of  November"  drew  near,  and  Lincoln's  election 
became  a  foregone  conclusion,  the  leaders  at  the  South 
raisi'd  the  cry  of  secession,  as  if  another  and  more 
danniable  error  could  counteract  the  effects  of  the  first. 
The  matchless  eloquence  of  a  Tombs  and  a  Yancey  was 
already  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  disunion  ;  and  this  gift 
of  Heaven  was  being  freely  used  to  convince  their  fel- 
low-citizens that  in  secession  lay  the  only  hope  of  self- 
preservation. 

Amidst  all  this  excitement,  ^Vyndship  kept  on  the 
even  tenor  of  his  way,  as  far  as  his  duties  as  teacher  were 
concerned.  A  feAV  of  his  patrons  were  showing  an  un- 
abated interest  in  the  school,  and  a  warm  appreciation 
of  his  labors  to  make  it  a  success  ;  and,  encouraged 
thereby,  he  persisted  in  his  efforts.  He  became  more 
prudent,  if  possible,  in  the  utterance  of  his  opinions  ; 
realizing  how  important  it  was  that  he  keep  clear  of  the 
political  cauldron  that  boiled  around  him.  Like  many 
others,  he  fancied  that  when  the  election  was  over  and 
the  result  determined,  a  reaction  would  come,  and  the 
people  would  settle  down,  quietly  accepting  the  verdict 
of  the  polls  ;  but  such  did  not  prove  to  be  the  case,  and 
Lincoln's  election  only  increased  the  cry  of  "Secession." 
The  states'  right  doctrine  of  the  great  Calhoun  had  been 
too  sedulously  taught  throughout  the  South  ;  and,  to  se- 
cede from  the  Union  was  almost  universally  believed  to 
be  a  constitutional  right.  Even  the  most  conservative 
citizens  regarded  it  as  hardly  a  debatable  qm  stion,  and 
the  strongest  Union  men  fought  it  purely  on  the  grounds 
of  policy. 

The  echoes  of  the  last  gun  of  the  Presidential  Cam- 
paign had  scarcely  died  away  before  the  forensic  battle 
was  renewed  on  the  new  issue  of  Union  or  Secession. 
No  rest  was  taken ;  not  an  hour  for  dispassionate 
thought,  not  a  moment  for  the  angry  excitement  to  cool. 


feELLEVlEW.      "  lis 

In  one  ni<?ht,  as  it  were,  the  old  party  lines  of  Whig  and 
Democrat,  and  the  later  ones  of  Douglas  and  Brecken- 
ridge  were  effaced,  and  the  next  morning's  sun  saw  the 
people  arrayed  in  opposing  liosts  upon  this  new  issue  of 
Secession.  Caucus  followed  caucus — convention  after 
convention  —  mass-meeting  succeeded  mass-meeting — 
speeches  upon  speeches,  until  the  electrified  air  could 
bear  no  other  sound,  while  the  wild  carnival  of  reckless- 
ness went  on.  Alas,  the  Union  party,  too  small  at  first, 
grew  rapidly  smaller,  and  was  finally  swept  away  by  the 
on-rolling  tide  of  revolution. 

All  the  efforts  of  Stephens,  and  the  few  conservatives 
like  him,  were  futile  in  checking  the  flames.  The 
time  for  extinguishing  the  conflagration  had  passed. 
Yeare  of  fiery  passion  had  so  prepared  the  fuel,  that  like 
a  AVestern  prairie  fire,  it  nmst  burn  itself  out,  must  take 
its  onward  course  until  all  material  was  exhausted, 
leaving  naught  but  cinders  and  ashes  in  its  path. 

Even  in  the  quiet  and  secluded  little  village  of  Somer- 
ville,  excitement  ran  higher  and  higher,  as  the  end  of 
the  year  drew  near.  One  party,  the  most  numerous, 
supported  by  the  influence  of  Colonel  Gachet,  were  for 
*'  immediate  secession  from  that  Union,  wherein  their 
dearest  interest,  their  most  cherished  principles,  were 
threatened  with  destruction."  Opposed  to  them  were  a 
smaller  party,  headed  by  Dr.  Ilurst  and  Mr.  INIartin, 
who  strove  in  vain  to  check  the  progress  of  what  they 
regarded  as  as  an  impolitic  and  unnecessary  course. 
Wyndship,  though  keenly  sympathizing  with  the  latter, 
studiously  abstained  from  open  participation  in  the  strife. 
It  was  hard  for  him  to  realize  that  the  majority  were  in 
earnest — in  fact,  it  is  doubtless  true  that  many  of  them 
did  not  intend  or  desire  a  final  separation,  and  adopted 
secession  only  as  a  means  of  forcing  a  compromise  from 
their  enemies  of  the  North.  When  this  was  accomplished, 
as  they  fondly  hoped,  then  they  would  return  to  the 
Union  with  all  the  old  vexed  questions  connected  with 
slavery  forever  settled. 

Under  the  pressure  of  political  excitement  the  ordin- 
ary course  of  social  life  became  diverted  from  its  cus- 
tomary channels  and  the  customary  round  of  holiday 
festivities  was  abridged  to  a  great  extent.  Even  the 
younger  part  of  the  community  caught  the  prevailing  in- 
fection, and  forsook  social  parties  and  balls  for  political 


114  INSANITY   BY  THE   WHOLESALE. 

meetings,  and  the  almost  daily  disciissioii.  Notwith- 
standing all  this,  and  notTvithstandiug  his  close  attention 
to  his  duties  and  studies,  Wj-ndship  would  still  be  thrown 
occasionally  in  Elma's  society,  as  if  fate  had  conspired 
to  bring  them  together.  Her  treatment  of  him  was  al- 
ways the  same,  friendly  and  cordial ;  and  she  made  no 
effort  to  hide  her  enjoyment  of  their  talks  on  literature, 
art,  and  kindred  subjects.  Each  meeting  increased  the 
admiration  he  already  felt,  but  he  was  confident  of  his 
power  of  self-control,  and  saw  no  reason  why  he  should 
refuse  the  sweets  which  fate  was  continually  throwing  in 
his  way.  He  reassured  himself  with  the  thought  that  no 
one  could  rightfully  accuse  him  of  purposely  seeking  her 
society,  as  he  went  no  moretoBelleview  ;  and  then,  there 
was  no  love-making  between  them,  or  likely  ever  to  be. 

It  is  said  that  a  woman  discovers  the  love  she  has 
won  even  before  the  man  does  v^'ho  feels  it ;  but  this 
might  not  have  been  the  case  with  Elma,  as  she  had  been 
too  little  interested  in  love  matters  and  flirtations  during 
her  life  to  be  well  acquainted  with  all  the  symptoms. 
True,  his  eyes  and  manner  may  have  given  her  a  hint  of 
the  truth  more  than  once,  but  then,  these  were  contra- 
dicted by  his  conduct  afterwards.  She  understood 
something  of  his  sensitive  pride  and  aversion  to  be  ing 
called  a  fortune-hunter,  but  had  she  not  shown  him  that 
she  did  not  regard  him  in  that  light  ?  And  had  he  not 
seen  how  contemptuous!}''  she  treated  Arthur  Slaton  and 
his  insinuation  ?  Cousequeiitl}^  as  his  conduct  toAvards  her 
was  generally  not  at  all  lover-like,  the  warmth  a  few  times 
exhibited  must  have  been  nothing  more  than  friendly 
esteem,  which  it  would  not  be  wrong  to  encourage,  as  it 
could  not  possibly  result  in  any  harm.  This  may  have 
been  the  way  she  reasoned  it  out. 

She  had  another  reason  for  encouraging  this  friend- 
ship— one  that  was  purely  selfish.  As  intimated  by 
Mrs.  Martin,  Elma's  futm-e  had  already  been  decided  on 
by  at  least  two  of  the  family  at  Belleview.  Colonel 
Gachet  very  much  desired  a  marriage  between  her  and 
his  son.  Extravagance  and  bad  management  had,  of 
late  years,  brought  him  somewhat  in  debt,  and  Leon's 
expensive  tastes  and  habits  being  right  smart  of  a  bur- 
den, he  was  beginning  to  feel  some  uneasiness  as  to  the 
result.  He  felt  that  it  was  high  time  that  his  son  was 
settling  down  to  a  more  useful  life   than  he   had   been 


BELLEVIEVV.  115 

leading  ;  and  assume  some  of  the  load  that  was  resting 
on  his  own  shoulders.  P^lma's  fortune  offered  the  easi- 
est way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  if  this  marriage  could 
be  consummated,  the  drain  that  Leon  made  on  his  income 
would  be  checked ;  besides,  should  it  become  necessary, 
he  could  then  borrow  from  his  son  until  more  prosperous 
times  enabled  him  to  pay  it  back.  His  sense  of  honor 
did  not  permit  him  to  use  his  ward's  money  before  she 
became  his  daughter-in-law :  but  then,  he  reasoned,  it 
would  be  perfectly  admissible,  as  it  would  go  to  pre- 
serve intact  an  estate  that  must  eventuall}?-  descend  to 
her  husband  and  her  children.  But  these  mercenary 
considerations  were  not  the  only  reason  why  he  desired 
their  union.  He  had  a  genuine  esteem  and  affection  for 
Elma,  and  regarded  her  as  being  in  every  w^ay  eminently 
qualified  to  become  his  son's  wife.  Of  the  very  few 
young  ladies  he  thought  worthy  of  that  honor,  she  was 
the  first  choice ;  and  it  appeared  to  him,  as  it  did  to 
many  others,  as  the  most  natural  match  in  the  world, 
and  the  most  suitable  one  that  either  could  make. 

Leon  agreed  perfectly  with  his  father  on  this  subject. 
He  had  half  fallen  in  love  with  Elma  during  the  preced- 
ing summer,  when  she  spent  her  vacation  at  Belleview. 
Of  course,  this  fancy,  had  he  never  seen  her  again,  would 
have  soon  succumbed  to  the  influence  pf  separation  and 
the  charms  of  others :  but  he  saw  her  often  enough  dur- 
ing his  visits  to  Macon  in  the  fall  and  winter  that  fol- 
lowed to  keep  it  alive :  and  when  he  returned  from 
Florida,  and  found  her  girlish  promise  of  beauty  fully 
realized,  it  at  once  ripened  into  a  passion  which  ignited 
all  the  combustible  material  of  his  fiery  Spanish  heart. 
Believing  that  she  was  still  "  heart-whole  and  fancy- 
free,"  and  knowing  full  well  the  value  of  his  own  attrac- 
tions, personal,  financial,  and  social,  he  did  not  think 
there  would  be  any  difficulty  in  persuading  her  to  be- 
come his  wife.  Comparing  himself  with  all  the  "  possi- 
ble" young  men  of  his  acquaintance,  he  could  find  none 
whom  he  need  dread  much  as  a  rival ;  consequent^,  he 
felt  confident  of  success ;  but  even  with  this  comfort- 
able assurance  his  impetuous  nature  did  not  alloAv  him 
to  take  things  easy,  so  he  lost  no  time  in  laying  siege  to 
the  heart  and  hand  of  his  father's  w^ard. 

Elma  was  not  blind  to  his   personal   good   looks   and 
brilliant  prospects,  but  with  her  these  considerations  had 


116  INSANITY    BY   THE    WHOLESALE. 

little  weight — she  wanted  something  more  than  family, 
wealth,  and  manly  beanty  in  a  husband.  She  read  his 
character  too  clearly — understood  too  well  the  S'4{ish 
egotism  that  domineered  over  his  better  traits,  to 
return  his  passion,  and  quietly  tried  in  every  way  to 
avoid  his  attentions  without  giving  offence.  This  she 
disliked  to  do,  on  account  of  the  respect  and  affection 
she  felt  for  his  family,  fearing  that  a  direct  refusal 
might  cause  them  pain.  Her  position  was  a  trying  one, 
out  of  which  she  was  sometimes  tempted  to  escape, 
through  the  medium  of  making  a  visit  to  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Harris,  in  Macon. 

But  they  would  all  think  strange  of  this  excuse,  as  it 
had  been  so  short  a  time  since  she  returned  from  Tennes- 
see. Moreover,  she  thought  that,  by  coolness  and  in- 
difference, she  could  keep  him  at  a  distance  until,  becom- 
ing convinced  that  his  suit  was  hopeless,  he  would  with- 
draw his  pretensions.  But  in  this  conclusion,  "  she 
reckoned  without  her  host."  Feeling  assured  that  he 
would  ultimate^  succeed,  difficulties  only  increased  the 
prize  in  the  eyes  of  Leon  Gachet.  He  thought  her  cold- 
ness was  caused  by  maidenly  modesty  and  reserve, 
which  his  ardor  would  soon  overcome,  so,  while  inwardly 
cursing  her  prudency,  he  continued  his  attentions.  It 
required  all  of  Elma's  tact  to  keep  him  aloof,  and  in  or- 
der to  do  so,  it  was  necessary,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
for  her  to  constantly  seek  the  guardianship  of  others 
present.  She  made  good  use  of  her  female  friends,  but 
there  were  times  when  these  were  not  available — when 
the  companionship  of  the  other  sex  was  not  only  ex- 
pected by  social  customs,  but  also  when  it  simply  could 
not  be  avoided.  The  supply  of  young  men  around 
Somerville  was  limited,  not  much  exceeding  the  four 
that  have  been  introduced.  Of  these,  Charley  Hurst 
she  knew  to  be  the  sweetheart  of  her  friend,  and  there- 
fore must  not  be  interfered  with,  to  that  young  lady's 
detriment  or  annoyance.  Arthur  Slaton's  society  was 
hardly  endurable  ;  she  could  not  suppress  the  feeling  of 
repugnance  she  felt  in  his  presence,  enough  to  encour- 
age the  attentions  he  was  ever  ready  to  bestow^  Thus 
Wyndship  was  almost  her  only  resource,  and,  therefore, 
in  self-defense,  she  encouraged  him  to  remain  at  her 
side  whenever  circumstances  threw  them  together,  as 
much  as  she  could  without  beino;  forward  and  indelicate. 


BELLEVIEW.  117 

It  was  the  carrying  out  of  this  policy  on  her'  part  which 
caused  the  long  tete-a-tete  over  the  water-color  sketches 
on  the  night  of  the  birthday  party  ;  or,  rather,  that  was 
what  started  it — mutual  enjoyment  caused  its  prolonga- 
tion. 

She  found  "Wyndship  a  very  uncertain  dependence — 
one  liable  to  fail  her  at  the  most  critical  moments.  In 
the  first  place,  he  did  not  visit  Belle  view  any  more  ;  and 
in  the  second,  he  did  not  seem  disposed  to  always  avail 
himself  of  the  opportunities  he  met  with  elsewhere. 
This  she  could  not  understand ;  for,  when  once  by  her 
side,  he  showed  too  plainly  that  it  was  not  caused  by 
any  aversion  to  her  personally.  Neither  could  she  un- 
derstand why  he  should  hold  back  on  account  of  any 
imaginary  social  gulf  between  them,  when  any  one  with 
half  his  intelligence  could  see  that  none  existed ;  nor 
why  a  citizen  of  "Free  America,"  whose  education, 
ability,  and  moral  character  made  him  the  peer  of  any 
gentleman  in  the  country,  should  place  so  much  stress  on 
the  mere  accident  of  fortune.  Such  a  course  would  in- 
dicate the  weakness  of  false  or  morbid  pride,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  made  of  stronger  stuff  than  that.  This  in- 
consistency in  his  behavior  excited  her  curiosity,  and 
caused  her  to  think  of  him  more,  to  study  his  character 
more  clearly  than  she  otherwise  would  have  done.  These 
abrupt  transitions  from  friendly,  almost  lover-like 
warmth,  to  cold  reserve,  she  did  not  like  ;  but  she  did 
like  his  company,  and  like  every  other  daughter  of  Eve, 
she  did  like  his  respectful  admiration. 

If  Leon  did  not  see  the  hopelessness  of  his  suit,  his 
sister  did.  The  intercourse  between  the  two  girls  had 
been  so  confidential  in  its  tone,  that  even  the  absence  of 
explicit  confidence  did  not  prevent  Mollie  from  seeing 
how  matters  stood.  She  regretted  the  failure  of  her 
brother  very  much,  but  it  did  not  for  one  moment  affect 
the  loyalty  to  her  friend.  If  Elma  should  never  be  her 
sister  in  name,  still  she  would  always  hold  that  relation 
in  her  heart.  With  Mrs.  Gachet,  there  was  little  differ- 
ence. The  Colonel's  will  had  been  her  only  law  through 
married  life,  and  because  he  desired  it,  she  wished  Leon 
success.  She  was  of  that  quiet  and  unobtrusive  temper- 
ament, however,  that  try  to  rule  others  only  when  duty 
required  it,  and  in  this  matter  was  as  passive  as  her  re- 
spect for  her  husband's  wishes  would  permit.      The 


118  YOUNG    AMERICA   TO   TUE    RESCUE 

motherless  girl  committed  to  her  care,  had  appealed  to 
her  heart  at  its  tenderest  point,  aud  held  a  place  in  her 
affections  next  to  her  own  daughter.  If  Elma  could 
not  love  her  step-son,  she  had  no  desire  to  see  them  uni- 
ted in  marriage.  As  for  the  Colonel,  he  was  too  busy 
just  at  this  time  in  urging  the  sovereigns  to  '^  hurl  back 
a  defiance  at  the  Northern  foe  in  the  shape  of  an  Ordi- 
nance of  Secession,"  to  p^.}"  much  attention  to  this  other 
cherished  project. 

Some  of  the  Colonel's  enthusiasm  on  this  subject  was 
imbibed  b}^  his  son  ;  in  fact,  as  we  have  already  noticed, 
the  prevailing  political  excitement  extended  to  all,  more 
or  less — to  the  young  as  well  as  the  old,  and  to  the 
women  as  well  as  the  men.  Even  a  lover's  attention 
w^as  sometimes  distracted  from  the  object  of  his  devo- 
tion— indeed,  this  was  no  time  for  sighing  at  a  lady's 
feet,  when  one  nation  was  seemingl}^  dying  that  another 
might  be  born  ;  consequently,  Elma's  task  was  a  little 
easier  than  it  might  have  been  under  other  ciicumctau- 
ces. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

YOUNG  AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE. 

Mrs.  Martin  decided  not  to  give  up  her  cnstotnary 
Christmas  party.  "  It  is  all  the  more  desirable  now," 
she  declared,  "  for,  possibly  it  may,  for  a  few  hours,  at 
least,  draw  the  minds  of  my  masculine  guests  from  the 
subject  of  politics."  So,  on  the  appointed  night,  she 
welcomed  the  young  people  to  her  house,  giving  them  a 
carte  blanche  to  enjoy  themselves  as  they  pleased, 
and  to  the  fullest  extent — with,  however,  one  restriction, 
and  that  was,  that  the  subject  of  war,  or  of  secession 
must  not  be  mentioned. 

"  I  have  given  Mr.  Wyndship  and  Mr.  Martin  their 
orders  beforehand,"  she  added,  laughingly,  "  and  I  now 
give  you  yours.  The  mention  of  either  of  these  forbid- 
den topics  by  any  of  you  will  be  regarded  as  a  heinous 
crime,  and  punished  accordingly." 

Wyndship  was  in  exceeding  bad  plight  for  this  party, 
which  he  knew  was  given  for  Jiis  benefit.     As  he  was  re- 


feELLEVlEW.  119 

turning  from  school  a  few  evenings  before,  he  was 
joined  by  Arthur  Ski  ton,  who,  serenely  ignoring  his 
coolness,  persisted  in  walking  with  him  as  far  as  Mr. 
Martin's  gate.  Arthur  was  always  friendly,  and  to  all 
appearances,  was  perfectly  innocent  of  ever  having 
given  the  Northerner  any  grounds  for  regarding  him  in 
any  other  light  but  that  of  a  friend.  On  that  evening 
he  was  unusually  cordial,  and  took  all  of  Wyndship's 
short  responses  in  the  best  of  humor — in  fact,  he  grew 
very  confidential,  and  proceeded  to  reveal  a  secret  as 
yet  unknown  to  any  one  but  himself.  Passing  over  the 
manoeuvres  and  preparatory  talk  that  led  up  to  it,  and 
the  innuendos  necessary  for  its  proper  adornment,  we 
will  give  the  sum  and  substance  of  this  secret  in  a  few 
words.  It  was,  that  Leon  Gachet  and  Elma  Owens 
were  engaged  to  be  married  ;  that  Elma  had  loved  Leon 
for  a  year  or  more  ;  that  she  had  been  flirting  with  other 
young  men  for  the  purpose  of  exciting  his  jealousy,  and 
to  spur  him  on  to  a  declaration ;  that  by  nature  she  was 
an  arrant  flirt,  but  that  she  had  found  her  master  in 
Leon,  and  would  soon  have  to  reform  ;  that  the  family 
at  Belleview  were  in  high  glee  over  the  match,  as  it 
would  unite  two  of  the  largest  fortunes  in  Georgia  ;  and 
so  on,  ad  nauseam. 

This  was  a  very  simple  ruse  ;  one  whose  falsehoods 
were  extenuated  by  neither  cunning  nor  originality,  but 
it  answered  Arthurs  purpose.  Had  it  been  about  any 
one  else,Ayyndship  would  not  have  given  it  the  least  at- 
tention— into  one  ear  and  out  the  other  it  would  have 
gone,  treated  with  the  contemptuous  indifference  it  and 
its  author  deserved.  But  there  is  something  in  the  hu- 
man mind,  some  weakness,  or  taint  of  insanity,  that 
keeps  the  average  man  or  woman  ready  to  believe  evil 
in  those  they  most  adore.  Is  it  hereditary  depravity? 
constitutional  sin?  the  promptings  of  the  devil?  or  is  it 
the  effects  of  a  subtile  poison,  into  which  Cupid  dips  his 
arrows  ere  he  wings  them  on  their  flight?  At  any  rate, 
Arthur's  blow  struck  home. 

He  bade  his  victim  good-day  at  the  gate,  with  effusive 
expressions  of  friendship,  and  urgent  invitations  to 
come  out  to  his  father's  place  some  Saturday,  that  barely 
hid  the  gleeful  malice  in  his  smile.  The  latter  was  past 
all  smiling.  The  pain  in  his  heart  removed  the  scales 
from  his  inward  vision,  revealing  the  fact,  that  notwith- 


120  YOUNG    AMERICA    TO    THE    RESCUE. 

standing  all  bis  resolutions  to  the  contrary,  he  loved 
Elma  Owens.  His  vaunted  self-control  had  been  a  de- 
lusion and  a  snare  ;  the  philosophy  and  heart  discipline 
on  which  he  so  proudly  relied,  nothing  but  a  broken 
reed.  Unconsciously,  to  himself,  he  had  been  false  to 
his  principles  and  to  his  pride,  and  no  amount  of  re- 
morse could  now  undo  the  mischief,  or  relieve  his  heart 
from  the  magic  spell.  Above  his  self-reproaches  rose 
the  voice  of  the  jeering  sprite,  torturing  him  with  the 
truth,  that  no  woman  would  ever  be  the  same  to  him 
that  she  might  have  been  ;  nor  that  life  would  ever  be 
what  it  might  have  been. 

He  believed  that  he  had  hid  his  emotion  from  Slaton's 
eyes,  and  not  wishing  to  meet  any  one  else  just  then,  he 
laid  his  books  on  the  porch,  and  went  around  the  house 
and  out  through  the  orchard  behind,  seeking  the  friendly 
solitude  of  the  woods  beyond.  About  dusk  he  returned, 
and  excusing  himself  from  supper  on  the  plea  of  head- 
ache, retired  to  his  room.  He  did  not  stop  to  consider 
the  character  of  his  informant,  or  the  improbability  of 
the  tale  he  told ;  his  soul  did  not  rise  up  in  righteous 
anger  against  the  slanderer  of  the  woman  he  loved. 
Slaton's  truth  or  falseness  mattered  not ;  neither  could 
condone  his  own  criminal  folly,  or  brighten  the  dark- 
ness of  the  future.  His  passion  was  wrong  and  hopeless, 
and  these  two  convictions  were  as  much  as  he  could  bat- 
tle with  at  present. 

So  the  pleasant  sensations  with  which  he  had  been 
looking  forward  to  this  party,  when  he  would  have  the 
delight  of  w^elcoming  Elma  as  host,  w^ere  destroyed  com- 
pletely. Not  that  there  would  be  no  pleasure  in  meet- 
ing her  again,  for  no  matter  how  deep  might  be  his 
mortification,  or  how  great  his  pain,  the  thought  of  being 
in  her  presence  again  sent  an  intoxicating  thrill  through 
his  heart ;  but  henceforth  he  must  act  as  an  utter  stranger 
should  ;  must  sit  away  off  and  take  his  part  of  the  feast  in 
looks  alone.  There  must  be  no  more  glimpses  into  Paradise  ; 
no  more  confidential  chats ;  no  more  enchanting  songs 
sung  for  his  benefit  alone ;  he  dared  not  risk  this  since  find- 
ing out  how  weak  his  self-control  had  really  been.  His 
secret  must  be  kept  hidden  at  any  cost,  and  in  almost 
total  abstinence  lay  his  only  safety. 

Leon  had  not  progressed  with  his  wooing  as  rapidly  as 
he  desired  ;  in  fact,  in  reviewing  the  situation,  it  seemed 


BELLEVIEW.  121 

to  him  as  if  the  time  since  his  return  from  Florida  had 
been  wasted,  as  far  as  winning  a  wife  was  concerned. 
So  he  determined  to  make  up  the  lost  time,  and  during 
the  week  before  the  party,  Elma  found  his  attentions 
unusually  annoying.  Wearied  with  the  continued  labor 
of  evasion,  she  came  to  the  party,  hoping  for  one  night's 
respite,  at  least.  "  Miss  Catherine"  was  expected  from 
Milton,  and  her  known  admiration  for  Leon  gave  Elma 
some  hopes  of  assistance  from  her,  which,  coupled  with 
that  of  Mrs.  ^lartin  and  Wyndship,  might  enable  her  to 
spend  one  evening  in  peace.  She  could  not  avoid  riding 
with  him  in  going,  (as  Charley  Hurst  carried  Mollie)  ; 
and  on  the  road  she  inwardly  vowed  to  invent  some 
stratagem  which  v/ould  change  the  programme  on  return- 
ing. She  would  call  the  young  lady  "  Miss  Kate"  or 
even  Katie  this  time,  but  what  the  latter  occupied  her  seat 
in  Leon's  buggy. 

But  Miss  Kate  did  not  come  ;  Mrs.  Martin's  duties 
as  hostess  kept  her  busy,  and  Wyndship  soon  showed 
that  he  had  no  intention  ol  contesting  Leon's  claims. 
The  smallness  of  the  crowd  tended  to  make  her  position 
more  unpleasant,  and  also  made  the  former's  avoid- 
ance more  observable.  Mollie  noticed  the  latter,  and 
on  the  first  opportunity,  asked  her  friend  if  she  had  not 
in  some  way  offended  him. 

"  No.     Why  do  you  ask?" 

''  Because  he  has  not  been  near  you  to-night,  and 
that  is  something  unusual  with  him." 

"Mr.  Wyndship  is  a  goose,"  was  the  impulsive  re- 
joinder— "  No,  I  don't  mean  that,"  quickly  correcting 
herself,  ''  but  I  believe  that  he  is  so  morbidly  sensitive 
as  to  imagine  if  he  showed  me  any  more  attention  than 
he  is  compelled  to,  people  would  suspect  him  of — of  try- 
ing to  feather  his  nest ;  as  Arthur  Slaton  would  say. 
That  sounds  very  ridiculous,  but  I  don't  know  of  any 
other  reason  he  could  have." 

Mollie  watched  the  look  of  annoyance  on  her  friend's 
face  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  mischievously : 

*'  Maybe  that  is  not  the  only  reason." 

"  What  other  could  he  possibly  have  ?  I  am  certain 
that  I  have  never  intentionally  mistreated  him." 

"  Possibly  he  has  fallen  in  love  with  you,  and  fears  to 
trust  himself  in  your  company." 

"  Nonsense  ;"  and  Elma  turned  quickly   away  before 


122  YOUNG    AMERICA   TO   THE    RESCtJ'ii. 

Mollie  could  tell  exactly  what  had  been  the  effect  of 
her  experimental  shot.  The  suggestion  was  not  lost  on 
the  former,  however,  and  for  the  remainder  of  tlie  eve- 
ning she  was  unusually  quiet.  Had  Wyndship  been  ever 
so  willing  to  pay  her  attention,  he  would  have  found  her 
much  more  coy  than  ever  before. 

No  woman  is  ever  entirely  indifferent  to  the  effect  of 
her  charms  on  persons  of  the  opposite  sex.  No  matter 
how  impossible  it  may  be  for  her  to  return  the  love  that 
she  has  won,  or  how  far  below  her  in  the  social  scale  the 
admirer  may  be,  that  love  and  admiration,  when  respect- 
fully exhibited,  will  awake  a  feeling  of  pleasure  and 
gratitude  in  her  own  heart.  So  it  was  with  Elma. 
Mollie's  suggestion  aroused  her  curiosity,  and  set  her  to 
conjecturing  whether  this  surmise  was  the  true  explana- 
tion for  the  inconsistency  she  had  noticed.  These  con- 
jectures were  soon  settled  in  a  very  unexpected  manner. 

As  before  stated,  Elma  had  determined  in  her  own 
mind  not  to  return  home  with  Leon,  and  as  the  time  for 
breaking  up  came,  and  no  other  excuse  presented  itself, 
she  accepted  Mrs.  Martin's  invitation  to  remain  all 
night.  Leon  was  greatly  disappointed,  and  tried  to 
overrule  her  decision  ;  but  failing  in  his  efforts,  he  had 
to  postpone  the  declaration  of  love  he  intended  making 
during  the  ride  home.  He  began  to  suspect  that  his 
uniformly  bad  luck  in  seeking  an  opportunity  for  this 
declaration  was  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to  her  ma- 
noeuvres. Although  still  believing  that  this  was  only 
caused  by  prudery,  yet  he  had  been  too  much  accus- 
tomed to  having  his  own  way  to  patiently  submit.  To 
be  foiled  so  repeatedly  irritated  him  ;  and  besides,  prob- 
ably his  pride  was  just  a  little  touched  by  her  apparent 
want  of  appreciation  of  the  honor  he  wished  to  confer. 
Prompted  by  these  conceits,  he  decided  that  night  to 
change  his  tactics,  and  see  if  a  week  or  two  of  indiffer- 
ence would  not  bring  her  to  her  senses  ;  little  thinking 
that  this  was  just  what  she  most  desired. 

During  the  forenoon,  Johnnie  Hall,  a  boy  about  fif- 
teen years  old — a  nephew  of  Mrs.  Martin,  and  one  of 
Wynd ship's  pupils — was  exploding  some  Christmas  tor- 
pedoes in  his  uncle's  back-yard,  assisted  by  the  latter 
and  his  teacher.  Some  remark  brought  up  the  subject 
of  firearms,  and  Wyndship  undertook  to  describe  a  late 
improvement  in  pistols.    To  make  his  explanation  clear, 


he  brought  out  a  small  pocket  revolver  of  verj^  fine  work- 
manship, that  a  friend  had  given  him  before  leaving 
home.  He  was  called  away  while  Mr.  Martin  was  in- 
specting it,  and  when  through  with  the  examination,  the 
latter  carried  it  in  the  house  and  laid  it  on  the  mantel 
of  the  sitting-room,  where  it  remained  unnoticed  during 
the  bustle  of  household  preparation  for  the  part3^ 

After  the  party  was  over,  and  the  guests  had  all  de- 
parted, except  Elma,  she  and  Johnnie  vrere  left  for  a 
few  minutes  in  the  sitting-room  by  themselves.  The 
latter  had  an  immense  admiration  for  his  fair  compan- 
ion, and  also,  like  all  boys,  a  great  fondness  for  any- 
thing in  the  shape  of  a  gun.  Noticing  the  pistol  on  the 
mantel,  where  his  uncle  had  left  it,  and  supposing  that 
she  felt  some  of  the  same  interest  in  such  things  that  he 
did,  he  could  think  of  no  better  means  of  entertaining 
her,  than  by  an  exhibition  of  its  merits.  So,  with  the 
carelessness  of  his  age,  he  took  it  down  and  proceeded 
to  show  her  the  beauty  of  its  finish  and  mechanism  just 
as  he  saw  his  teacher  do  that  morning.  To  please  him, 
Elma  showed  great  interest,  and  drawing  close  together, 
the  two  were  busily  engaged — he  in  manipulating  and 
explaining,  while  she  watched  and  listened — when 
Wyndship  came  in  the  door  unobserved.  Noticing  their 
occupation,  and  the  boy's  awkwardness  in  holding  the 
muzzle  towards  her,  he  called  out  suddenly : 

"  Take  care,  Johnnie." 

Something,  probably  the  unexpected  warning,  caused 
the  boy's  thumb  to  slip  from  the  hammer,  and  the  pistol 
went  off.  Elma  gave  a  half-smothered  scream,  jumped 
backward,  stumbled  over  a  foot-stoul,  and  fell.  Believ- 
ing that  she  iiad  been  killed,  AVyndship  sprang  forward, 
and  throwing  himself  on  the  floor  by  her  side,  caught  her 
up  in  his  arms. 

"Oh!  Elma,  Elma!  my  love,"  he  cried  in  heart- 
broken accents,  "  Oh  !  my  God — dead — " 

Unmindful  of  the  presence  of  Johnnie,  he  hugged  her 
close  to  his  breast,  repeating  loving  epithets  and  broken 
exclamations  of  horror,  even  after  her  efforts  to  disen- 
gage herself  from  his  clasp  proved  that  she  was  quite  a 
lively  corpse. 

"  I'm  not  dead — I'm  not  hurt — let  me  go,  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship. Oh!  Mrs.  Martin,  help  me  up,"  she  appealed,  as 
that  lady  came  running  in.     "  Make  him  let  me  go — I'n 


124  YOUNG   AMERICA   TO   THE   RESCUE. 

not  hurt  in  the  least."  In  the  meantime,  Johnnie  was 
too  badly  frightened  to  do  anything  but  bounce  up  and 
down,  crying  out : 

*'  I  didn't  go  to  do  it !     Oh !  I  didn't  go  to  do  it !" 

"  Hush,  you  foolish  boy,"  she  continued,  "  nobody  is 
killed — not  even  hurt." 

''  Oh  !  Miss  Elma  !  I  didn't  go  to  shoot.  I'll  never 
touch  another  pistol  as  long  as  I  live.  Oh !  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship,  forgive  me  this  time,  an'  I'll   never  do   it   again." 

Johnnie's  fright  and  penitence  were  ludicrous  indeed, 
but  it  was  all  lost  on  Wyndship,  who,  trembling  like  an 
aspen  leaf,  began  to  realize  that  it  was  not  the  dead 
body  of  his  sweetheart  that  he  had  been  embracing  so 
closely.  As  this  fact  gained  admittance  into  his  be- 
wildered mind,  it  brought  also  a  remiiider  of  how  com- 
pletely he  had  betrayed  himself  ;  and  the  pallor  on  his 
face  changed  to  a  deep  red,  his  eyes  sank  to  the  floor  in 
shame  and  confusion,  and  tui-ning  abruptly  on  his  heels, 
he  hurried  from  the  room. 

Out  in  the  cool  night  air,  he  gradually  regained  con- 
trol of  his  faculties  sufficiently  to  comprehend^  all  that 
had  occuiTed,  and  to  realize  the  new  position  in  which 
he  was  placed.  In  a  moment  of  excitement  and  horror, 
he  had  betrayed  the  love  he  had  intended  to  keep  hid- 
den, and  he  could  follow  the  assumed  role  of  indifferent 
friendship  no  longer.  Others,  too,  had  witnessed  his 
folly,  and  there  was  no  telling  how  soon  it  would  be  ^  on 
the  tongue  of  every  scandal-monger  in  the  community. 
*'  Well,  what  of  that?"  what  little  connnon-sense  he  had 
left  demanded.  ''  What  sin  was  there  in  loving  Elma 
Owens  ?  AVhy  should  any  man  be  ashamed  of  a  fate 
that  was  common  to  almost  all  who  came  under  the  in- 
fluence of  her  charms  ?  Would  these  people  think  any 
the  less  of  him  on  account  of  this  love  ?  When  he  had 
proven  his  manhood  by  suppressing  so  hopeless  a  pas- 
sion, would  they  not  admire  and  respect  him  the  more  ? 
Would  they  not  commend  the  moral  courage  shown  in 
keeping  on  in  his  allotted  course,  unmindful  of  misfor- 
tune and  suffering?"  Aye  ;  but  could  he  do  this?  When 
he  thought  of  the  future  and  the  years  of  suppressed 
love  which  this  meant,  his  heart  told  him  no.  When  he 
thought  of  constant  meetings  with  her ;  of  seeing  others 
worshipping  at  the  shrine  which  was  forbidden  to  him ; 
of  standing  by  while  some  more   favored  person — while 


BELLKVIEW.  125 

Leon  Gachet  won  the  love  for  which  he  would  willingly 
sacrifice  his  hopes  of  heaven ;  his  heart  rebelled  and 
cried  out,  impossible.  How  could  he  witness  this  and 
live  ? 

Again  common-sense  interposed,  by  whispering  into 
his  inner  ear:  "Why  not  sacrifice  scruples,  and  en- 
deavor to  win  the  love  so  necessary  to  your  happiness  ? 
Why  not  make  an  honorable,  manly  effort  to  win  the 
prize,  which  no  other  man  will  ever  cherish  so  sacredly?" 
Ah,  but  what  had  Slaton  said  about  her  marrying  Leon, 
and  how  could  he  hope  for  success  ?  Would  she  not  mis- 
construe his  motives  as  being  mercenary,  like  others?  This 
thought  was  enough.  Such  a  course  would  only  change 
the  friendly  respect  she  had  always  shown  him  into  con- 
tempt, and  anything  was  better  than  that.  The  only 
choice  left  was  flight.  He  must  leave  the  neighbor- 
hood, trusting  that  absence,  newer  scenes,  and  occupa- 
tions would  deaden  that  pain,  which,  he  believed,  no 
remedy  could  ever  cure. 

After  an  hour's  absence  he  returned  to  his  room, 
where  he  found  Johnnie,  who  was  to  share  his  bed  that 
night,  still  awake.  One  of  the  conclusions  he  had  come 
to,  was  to  bind  the  latter  to  secrecy  concerning  the  af- 
fair, tnisting  that  feelings  of  delicacy  would  keep  Elma 
and  Mrs.  Martin  silent.  Notwithstanding  his  great 
fright,  Johnnie  had  wits  enough  about  him  to  take  in 
the  meaning  of  his  teacher's  conduct,  and  now  watched 
him  curiously  as  he  entered  the  room. 

''  Johnnie,  I  am  going  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  speak  of— of  the  accident  that 
happened  to-night.  Don't  mention  it — don't  speak  of 
it  at  all,  and — and  if  anyone  asks  you  about  it,  just  tell 
them  that — ^that  the  pistol  went  off  accidentally,  but 
nobody  was  hurt,  and  nothing  more.  Will  you  do  this  ?" 
"Yes,  Mr.  Wyndship,  there  is  no  danger  of  my  ever 
talking  about  it.  I  was  too  badly  scared,  and  am  too 
much  ashamed  of  my  carelessness,  ever  to  sav  anvthino- 
about  it."  ^        J        o 

"  Well,  if  you  will  do  so,  I  will  make  you  a  present 
of  that  pistol.'* 

"  Oh,  sir,  I'll  be  certain  not  to  mention  it  to  anyone, 
but  I  don't  want  you  to  give  me  the  pistol." 

"  Yes,  I  will — I  don't  want  it  myself — I  have  no  use 


126  ELMA  SECtJHES   AN   ALLY. 

for  such  a  -w^eapon.  I  will  leave  it  with  your  uncle  to 
take  care  of  until  j^ou  get  large  enough  to  handle  it  more 
carefully." 

Johnnie  winced  at  the  last  word,  and  cautiously  ab- 
stained from  pursuing  the  subject  any  further.  He  had 
already  received  one  lecture  from  his  aunt  about  the 
affair,  and,  to  use  his  own  forcible  expression  to  him- 
self, "  wer'n't  a-huntin'  around  for  another." 

When  Mr.  Martin  carried  the  pistol  to  Wyndship  next 
morning,  advising  him  to  put  it  away  in  some  safer 
place,  before  more  serious  mischief  was  done,  the  latter 
told  him  he  had  given  it  to  Johnnie. 

*' Given  it  to  Johnnie?"  echoed  the  old  man, in  aston- 
ishment. "Why — why,  isn't  it  rather  a  singular  and 
dangerous  present  to  give  a  boy  of  his  age  ?  " 

"  Yes — I — I  believe  it  is,"  assented  Wyndship,  with 
embarrassment,  "  but  I  don't — I  thought  Johnnie  might 
appreciate  it  when  he  grows  older,  as  a  present — a  keep- 
sake, from  one  of  his  teachers.  Of  course  3^ou  must 
take  care  of  it  for  him  until  he  gets  large  enough  to  be 
trusted  with  such  a  weapon  in  safety." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ELMA  SECURES  AN  ALLY WYNDSHIP  AN  ADVISER. 

The  shock  did  not  seem  to  have  broken  Elma's  rest, 
or  much  affected  her  nerves,  as  she  appeared  at  the  late 
breakfast  next  morning  looking  as  well  and  as  bright  as 
usual ;  in  fact,  she  was  in  the  highest  of  spirits,  and 
during  the  meal  kept  up  a  continual  fire  of  fun  and  rep- 
artee with  Mr.  Martin  and  Johnnie.  None  of  this,  how- 
ever, was  addressed  to  Wj^ndship,  and  as  he  was  equally 
as  reticent  towards  her,  nothing  passed  between  them, 
save  the  customary  good-morning  on  meeting.  He  at 
once  attributed  this  to  displeasure,  on  her  part,  with  his 
loving  demonstrations  on  the  evening  before,  and  conse- 
quently his  burden  of  heart-ache  was  not  in  the  least 
diminished.  The  more  fortunate  Johnnie  was  completely 
captivated,  and  lingered  at  the  table  with  her  and  his 
aunt  after  the  two  gentlemen  had  withdrawn. 

"  I  believe  you  claim  to  have  caught   me    '  Christmas 


BELLEVIEW.  127 

gift,'  Mr.  Johnnie,"  said  Elma,  referring  to  a  time-hon- 
ored custom.  "  Well,  what  shall  it  be?  A  silk  cravat, 
embroidered  with  a  true  lover's  knot,  containing  my 
initials  ?" 

"  Beggars  musn't  be  choice,  Miss  Elma — just  any- 
thing you're  mind  to  give  me.  I'll  think  more  of  it, 
anyhow,  than  anything  I  ever  had." 

''  Indeed?  How  gallant  you  are.  I  expect,  however, 
judging  from  the  propensity  you  exhibited  last  night  for 
shooting  people,  a  pistol  would  be  the  most  acceptable 
present  I  could  offer,"  she  replied  mischievously. 

"  Oh,  now,  Miss  Elma,  aint  you  never  goin'  to  quit 
throwin'  that  up  to  me  ?" 

"  Honestly,  now,  wouldn't  you  rather  have  the  pistol? 
The  next  time  you  want  to  shoot  me  Mr.  Wyndship 
might  not  be  handy." 

"Ah,  but  Mr.  Wyndship  has  given  me  his,"  retorted 
the  boy,  somewhat  regaining  his  assurance  under  her 
good-natured  railery. 

''Done  what?"  exclaimed  his  aunt,  in  astonishment. 
''  You  certainly  did  not  accept  it?" 

"  I  didn't  want  to,  but  he  would  have  me  take  it,  and 
told  Uncle  Allen  to  keep  it  for  me  until  I  got  larger." 

"Well,  I  never!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Martin,  under 
her  breath,  while  a  slight  flush  spread  over  Elma's 
countenance. 

"  Seeing  that  you  are  already  supplied  with  deadly 
weapons,"  resumed  the  young  lady,  in  her  former  man- 
ner, but  in  not  quite  so  complacent  a  tone,  "then  my 
offering  must  be  a  cravat,  as  I  believe  that  article  holds 
the  next  highest  place  in  the  young  masculine  mind. 
Well,  borrow  your  uncle's  horse  and  buggy  to  take  me 
home  this  morning,  and  I  will  see  what  we  can  do  after 
we  get  there  towards  liquidating  my  debt." 

"  You  are  not  going  home  this  morning,  Elma?  I 
thought  you  were  sjoing  to  stay  a  day  or  tvro  with 
me." 

"  Oh — I  can't — I  must  go  home  this  morning.  I  ought 
to  have  gone  home  last  night,  only  I — "  She  did  not 
finish  the  sentence,  but  seemed  to  have  become  deeply 
interested  with  the  pattern  of  the  table-cloth,  whose  in- 
tricate figures  she  was  tracing  with  her  fork.  Johnnie 
had  gone  to  see  about  the  conversance,  and  the  two  were 
left  alone.     Mrs.  Martin  watched  her  in   silence   for  £i 


128  ELMA    SECURES    AN    ALLY. 

while,  and  then  asked,  half   in  earnest   and   half   teas- 
ingly : 

"  Elma,  what  was  that  Mr.  Wyndship  was  saying  to 
you  last  night,  when  I  came  into  the  room — while  he 
had  you  in  his  arms,  and  was  still  thinking  you  had  been 
kUled?" 

"  Elma's  face  took  on  a  strong  resemblance  to  a 
peony,  still  she  managed  to  say,  "Was  he  saying  any- 
thing?" with  a  fair  assumption  of  innocence. 

"  I  heard  him  repeat  something  two   or   three  times.'* 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me,  then?  It  was  something  very 
foolish,  I  dare  say." 

"  It  was  not  foolish — to  him,  at  least." 

"  I  was  too  badly  frightened  to  notice  what  he  said," 
the  girl  replied  evasivel}^ 

"  I  know  better  than  that — you  remember  every  word 
he  uttered." 

"Oh!  what  a  memory  you  must  think  I  have,"  re- 
torted Elma,  trying  hard  to  brush  aside  the  serious  part 
of  Mrs.  Martin's  questions.  "It  is  growing  late — I 
must  get  ready  to  go  home,"  she  added,  jumping 
up  from  the  table. 

"  You  are  in  a  very  great  hurry  all  at  once — I  believe 
you  want  to  get  rid  of  my  questions." 

"  You  are  getting  entirely  too  fond  of  asking  them, 
my  dear  Madame.  I  am  afraid  your  Yankee  friend  is 
demoralizing  you — learning  you  Northern  habits.  They 
say  every  child  up  there  is  born  with  an  interrogation 
point  in  his  mouth."  With  this  parting  shot  she  ran  out 
of  the  room,  and  did  not  give  her  hostess  an  opportunity 
to  renew  her  catechising,  (if  she  so  desired)  while  wait- 
ing for  Johnnie  and  the  buggy. 

"  Now,  Johnnie,"  she  said,  in  the  same  tone  she  had 
used  with  Mrs.  Martin,  when  they  came  in  sight  of 
Belleview,  "what  must  I  tell  the  grand  jury,  when  they 
question  me  about  last  night's  affair  ?" 

"  Now,  Miss  Elma." 

"You  know  it  is  a  crime  to  attempt  murder,  even  if 
you  don't  succeed." 

"  Ain't  you  never  going  to  let  up  on  me  about  that 
— that  piece  of  carelessness.  Miss  Elma?" 

"  Well,  maybe  I  will,  if  you  will  promise  not  to  try  it 
again  ;  but  you  will  have  to  keep  it  very  quiet  yourself. 


BELLEVIEW.  129 

and  get  your  aunt  and  uncle  not  to  tell  it.  If  it  gets 
out,  you  know  I  can't  help  myself." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  my  ever  telling  it — besides,  I 
promised  Mr.  AYyndship  to  keep  it  a  secret." 

'*  Very  well,  then,"  she  continued,  after  a  pause,  and 
in  a  much  quieter  manner,  "  you  keep  it  quiet,  and  I'll 
promise  not  to  tell  on  you." 

She  made  him  go  into  the  house,  and  take  a  seat  in 
the  empty  parlor,  while  she  went  up  to  her  room  after  a 
needle  and  some  scraps  of  silk  and  floss.  Returning, 
she  seati'd  herself  by  his  side,  and  said : 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  let  you  see  me  make  your  cra- 
vat. You  will  prize  it  more  highly  when  you  know  it  is 
the  work  of  my  own  hands,  won't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"  I  thought  so,  and  I  want  you  to  think  a  great  deal 
of  this." 

It  was  a  pleasant  and  amusing  sight  to  see  this  young 
lady — the  pet  of  fortune,  and  of  her  own  set — as  with 
deft  fingers,  she  fashioned  and  ornamented  the  neck-tie 
for  the  boy  at  her  side  ;  entertaining  him  all  the  time  as 
he  had  never  been  entertained  before.  An  observer, 
particularly  had  he  been  one  of  her  admirers,  would  have 
thought  it  an  entirely  too  great  waste  of  sweetness  ; 
but  Elma  thought  different.  In  the  first  place,  she  knew 
no  one  would  appreciate  that  sweetness  more  than  John- 
nie ;  and  secondly,  she  wished,  just  then,  to  attach  him 
strongly  to  her  interest.  She  objected  as  much  as 
Wyndship  did  to  the  accident  of  the  pistol  becoming 
public,  and,  like  him,  she  was  not  above  a  little  bribery. 
Her  success  was  complete.  When  she  had  finished  the 
article,  tied  it  with  her  own  hands  around  his  neck,  and 
complimented  him  on  his  appearance,  no  lady  of  the 
days  of  chivalry  ever  had  a  more  devoted  knight.  Her 
slightest  wish  was  as  sacred  in  his  eyes  as  the  holy  fire 
to  the  Ghiber  priest. 

Elma's  curiosity  had  been  satisfied,  but  for  the  life 
of  her,  she  could  not  have  told  just  then  what  was  the 
nature  of  the  sensation  that  this  knowledge  produced. 
The  revelation  had  come  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that 
she  was  at  a  loss  how  to  receive  it — could  not  decide  in 
her  own  heart,  how  she  liked  this  passionate 
love.  One  of  her  objects  in  getting  Johnnie  to  drive  her 
home  that  morning,  was  to  prevent  giving  Wyndship  an 


130  ELMA   SECURES  AN  ALLY. 

opportunity  of  confirming  his  avowals.  She  was  un- 
prepared for  this,  did  not  know  what  answer  to  make, 
and  wanted  time  to  think  over  the  matter  first.  Conse- 
quently, she  now  had  two  declarations  to  avoid — one  be- 
cause she  did  not  wish  to  hear  it  at  all,  and  the  other  be- 
cause she  did  not  know  w^hether  she  wanted  to  hear  it 
or  not. 

Rather  to  her  surprise,  neither  of  the  two  seemed  dis- 
posed to  give  her  any  trouble  during  the  week  or  two 
that  followed.  Partly  in  carrying  out  the  resolution  he  had 
formed  that  night,  to  try  different  tactics  in  overcoming 
her  coldness,  and  partly  to  gratify  his  father,  who  wished 
him  to  take  an  interest  in  public  affau-s,  Leon  entered 
the  canvass  then  going  on  throughout  the  State,  in  fa- 
vor of  secession.  The  strong  appeals  for  the  Union, 
made  by  Georgia's  greatest  statesman,  Alex  Stephens, 
were  having  an  effect,  and  the  Secessionists  felt  the  ne- 
cessity of  making  extra  exertions ;  particularly  the 
Gachets,  as  the  Colonel  was  the  nominee  of  his  party,  to 
represent  the  county  in  the  convention  that  had  been 
called  to  decide  the  question.  He  insisted  on  Leon's 
taking  a  hand  in  the  fight :  "  You  will  never  have  a  bet- 
ter opportunity  of  entering  public  life,"  he  said.  ''We 
are  certain  to  win,  and  your  taking  a  decided  stand  on 
this  question  now,  will  bring  you  into  notice,  and  give 
you  influence  with  the  new  government."  Probably  the 
Colonel  was  also  prompted  by  hints  from  his  wife,  that 
Leon  had  better  not  be  too  precipitate  in  his  wooing 
— at  any  rate,  much  to  Lima's  relief,  the  latter  dropped 
his  love-making  for  the  time,  and  turned  his  attention 
to  courting  the  *'  Goddess  of  public  favor." 

The  holidays  and  the  first  week  in  January  passed, 
bringing  no  sign  from  Wyndship,  no  indication  that  he 
intended  sueing  for  a  return  of  the  love  he  had  revealed 
under  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  Elma  did  not  under- 
stand this,  and  began  to  wonder  if  those  loving  epithets 
and  heart-broken  expressions  could  mean  anything  what- 
ever. "  Were  they  simply  the  unconscious  utterances 
of  an  excited  and  horrified  mind  ;  or  was  he  sacrificing 
his  heart  on  the  altar  of   a  false  and  idiotic  pride  ?" 

Wyndship  had  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  Somerville, 
acknowledging  to  himself  that  it  was  the  only  course 
left  for  him  to  pursue  ;  still,  he  hesitated  when  it  came 
to  jputting  this  resolution  into  effect.    Somehow  or  other, 


BELLEVIEW.  131 

when  he  was  longing  to  be  away — or  thonght  he  was 
(which  amounted  to  the  same  thing) — something  seemed 
to  bind  him  to  the  place — obstacles  and  excuses  without 
number,  real  and  imaginary,  would  come  in  the  way. 
Besides,  it  was  not  necessary  to  be  in  a  hurry,  as  a  few 
days'  or  weeks'  delay  would  not  matter  ;  consequently, 
when  Christmas  week  had  passed,  he  resumed  his  school 
as  usual.  His  term  was  not  out,  and  he  felt  that  he 
could  give  no  valid  excuse  for  breaking  his  contract  as 
long  as  his  health  held  out.  There  was  also  another  reason 
to  keep  him  at  Somerville,  for  the  present.  His  sister 
wi'ote  him  in  December  that  their  mother's  health  had 
been  bad  dui-ing  the  fall,  but  at  that  time  it  was  improv- 
ing some  ;  and  that  the  doctors  thought  a  change  to  a 
milder  climate  would  be  beneficial.  He  replied  at  once  for 
her  to  come  to  Georgia,  and  he  was  now  looking  for  an- 
other letter,  telling  him  when  she  would  start.  It  was 
clearly  impossible  for  him  to  leave  now,  he  thought,  but 
when  his  mother  came,  something  might  give  the  de- 
sired excuse  for  changing  his  location. 

He  had  a  good  excuse  even  then,  had  he  known  it, 
or  rather  had  he  admitted  its  existence.  Change  of  cli- 
mate, close  attention  to  his  school  duties,  hard 
study  at  night  and  too  much  worrying  over 
his  heart  troubles,  were  having  their  effect  on 
his  own  health.  As  Mr.  Martin  tersely  expressed  it, 
'^  Too  much  work  and  no  play,  was  getting  away  with 
him."  His  friends  (and  he  had  made  others  besides  his 
host  and  hostess)  had  already  noticed  and  commented 
on  the  change  in  his  appearance.  One  of  them.  Dr. 
Hurst,  whose  profession  made  him  a  qualified  judge, 
prophesied  that  "  unless  he  soon  learned  the  Southern 
habit  of  taking  things  easy — of  shirking  a  little — it 
won't  be  long  before  the  trustees  will  be  looking  for  a 
new  teacher."  All  of  Mrs.  Martin's  attempts  to  entice 
him  away  from  his  books  at  night  were  useless,  and 
when  she  playfully  threatened  to  cut  off  his  supply  of 
light,  he  answered  that  his  lamp  was  not  necessary  so 
long  as  he  had  pine  to  burn  in  his  fire-place.  Such  close 
application  they  regarded  as  unnecessary — their  young 
men  got  along  and  made  successful  lawyers  without  it, 
and  why  shouldn't  he  ? 

Despair  has  urged  men  on  to  self-destruction  in    other 
ways  than  by  legal  suicide,  and  Wyndship   had    worked 


13^  ELMA  SECURES    AN   ALLY. 

himself  into  just  such  a  mental  and  nervous  condition, 
as  to  be  entirely  indifferent  about  his  own  welfare.  Study 
was  the  method  he  adopted  to  find  relief  from  painful 
reflections,  just  as  others  in  the  same  condition  fly  to 
the  wine-cup,  and  into  reckless  dissipation.  Every  now 
and  then  some  rumor,  prophesy,  or  assertion  about  the 
expected  marriage  between  Leon  Gachet  and  Elma, 
would  come  to  his  ears,  just  as  if  fate  delighted  to  prick 
him  in  his  tenderest  spot.  This,  of  course,  aggravated 
his  mental  disorder,  and  increased  his  disregard  of  hy- 
gienic laws  ;  and,  moreover,  made  him  restless  and  im- 
patient with  the  ties  that  bound  him  to  Somen^ille. 

He  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  when  he  received  an- 
other letter  from  his  sister,  during  the  second  week  in 
January,  stating  that  his  mother  would  not  come  South 
until  spring,  as  she  was  hardly  strong  enough  to  travel 
alone.  She  also  wi'ote  that  she  was  not  doing  quite  so 
weU  as  at  the  time  of  her  last  letter.  This  news  did 
away  with  one  of  his  reasons  for  remaining,  and  as  it 
happened  to  stril^e  him  in  one  of  his  most  dissatisfied 
moods,  it  about  decided  him  to  apply  to  the  trustees  for 
a  release  ;  but  before  taking  any  steps  in  the  matter,  he 
went  to  Mrs.  Martin  for  advice.  Why  he  should  have 
gone  to  her,  rather  than  her  husband,  is  a  question  that 
we  doubt  if  he  could  have  given  a  lucid  answer,  if  in- 
deed, he  ever  considered  their  relative  qualifications  as 
competent  advisers.  In  stating  his  question,  he  was  not 
near  as  candid  as  he  might  have  been,  seeing  that  she 
knew  all  the  facts,  and  only  gave  the  condition  of  his 
health  as  his  reason  for  wishing  to  make  a  change. 

"I  think,  myself,"  she  said,  "that  a  change  of  the 
right  kind  would  benefit  you — in  fact,  is  necessary.  I 
told  you  some  time  back,  that  you  were  injui'ing  your 
health,  but  you  wouldn't  listen." 

"  Then  you  think  that  I  have  a  valid  excuse  for  wish- 
ing to  be  released  from  my  contract?" 

'^  Yes — that  is,  if  you  can't  recover  your  health  with- 
out giving  up  the  scliool." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  can  stand  it  much  longer — I  must 
go  away  somewhere,  and  find  a  more  active  and  excit- 
ing occupation."  He  did  not  say  it,  but  he  thought  that 
''  it  must  be  something  exciting  enough  to  keep  Elma 
Owens  from  benig  so  constantly  in  my  thoughts." 

"  I  think  you  might  continue  your  school,  and   still 


BELLEVIEW.  133 

make    some  changes   that  would   be    highly  beneficial." 

"  What  are  they?"  he  asked,  hesitatingly. 

"Give  up  this  ceaseless  study — this  constant  poring 
over  those  old  law-books,  and  take  more  exercise.  Seek 
some  amusement — go  a-hunting,  stir  around  with  the 
young  folks — .  Talk  politics,  if  you  can't  find  anything 
else  to  do." 

The  soundness  of  this  advice  could  not  be  disputed  ; 
still,  in  his  heart,  AVyndship  knew  that  it  did  not  go  to 
the  root  of  his  trouble  ;  consequently  he  remained  si- 
lent. 

"My  friend,"  she  resumed,  when  it  became  evident 
that  he  was  not  going  to  reply,  "  you  haven't  been  can- 
did with  me — you  haven't  given  the  true  reason  for 
wanting  to  leave  us." 

He  winced  a  little,  and  his  face  turned  red. 

"  Am  I  not  right?     Is  there  not  another  reason?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  in  a  husky  voice. 

"  I  thought  so.  And  that  reason  is  connected  with 
Elma  Owens?" 

"Yes." 

"  Why  should  that  drive  you  from  Somerville?" 

"  Why?  How  can  you  ask  that  question?  You  saw 
— you  must  have  seen  enough  that  night — that  night  of 
the  party — " 

"  What  I  saw  and  heard  that  night,"  she  answered, 
with  a  smile,  although  there  was  a  world  of  sympathy 
in  her  voice  and  eyes,  "  would  lead  me  to  a  different 
conclusion — that  your  desire  would  be  to  stay,  not  to 
leave." 

' '  How  can  that  be  ?  Hew  can  I  stay  when  she  will 
be  married  so  soon  to  another  man  ?  It  is  too  much — I 
could  not  stand  it — it  would  kill  me.  If  I  thought  he 
was  worthy  of  her  it  might  be  different,  but  as  it  is — " 
His  self-control  gave  way,  so  he  did  not  finish  the  sen- 
tence. 

"Who  is  the  other  man?" 

"  Why  do  you  ask?     You  surely  know." 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  but  I  suppose  you  refer  to  Leon 
Gachet." 

"  He  nodded  his  head  in  assent. 

"  WeU,  if  you  never  leave  here  until  there  is  a  pros- 
pect of  that  maniago  coming  off,  you  are  settled  for 
life.      Elma  and  Leon  will  never  marry." 


134  ELMA    SECmES   AN   ALLY. 

*'  How  do  you  know?"  he  asked,  incredulously. 

"  I  can  hardl}^  say  how  I  know  it ;  in  fact,  it  is  faith, 
and  not  knowledge  ;  still,  I  was  never  more  certain  of  a 
fact  in  ni}"  life.  She  will  never  marry  a  person  that  she 
does  not  love,  and  I  know  she  does  not  love  Leon." 

"  But  every  one  else  thinks  differently — says  they  will 
marry,  and  that  they  are  now  engaged." 

"  Who  is  everyone  else?" 

Wyndship  hesitated  :  he  could  think  of  only  one  person 
who  asserted  it  as  a  fact. 

"  Who  told  you  they  were  going  to  marry?" 

"  Well,  Arthur  Slaton." 

' '  Indeed  ?  And  he  told  you  the  exact  day,  didn't  he  ?" 
she  demanded,  sarcastically. 

"  In  the  spring,  he  said." 

"  Is  that  all  the  information  he  gave  you  concerning 
it?  Didn't  he  tell  you  where  they  were  to  be  married, 
who  was  to  perform  the  ceremony — how  she  was  to  be 
dressed,  what  her  bridesmaids  were  to  wear?  and  so 
forth  and  so  on,  through  the  whole  affair?  I  am  sure  he 
was  as  well  able  to  tell  you  all,  as  part."  Mrs. 
Martin  was  growing  extremely  warm.  '^  And  you, 
knowing  his  reputation  for  telling  the  truth,  drank  it  all 
in^eh?  It  is  a  pity  he  didn't  tell  you  that  the  moon 
was  made  of  green  cheese  ;  maybe  j^ou  would  believe 
that,  also.  An^^thing  that  Arthur  Slaton  tells  is  gospel 
truth,  eh?  Well,  it  is  a  good  thing  that  you  believe 
him,  nobody  else  does." 

Something  like  a  ghost  of  a  smile  flitted  across  Wynd- 
sliip's  face,  for  this  lecture,  unlike  lectures  in  general, 
was  not  liaving  a  very  depressing  effect  on  the  recipient. 
He  well  knew  Mrs.  Martin's  opinion  of  Slaton,  and 
thought,  "  She  lets  her  prejudices  against  him  discredit 
everything  he  says,  no  matter  how  plausible  it  may  be." 
So  the  smile  vanished,  and  with  the  persistence  of  de- 
spondenc}',  he  returned  to  his  doubts. 

"  His  tale  does  not  seem  improbable  to  me — at  least," 
he  added,  correcting  himself  as  he  remembered  how  im- 
probable part  of  it  had  appeared,  even  to  his  jaundiced 
mind,  ''  at  least,  as  far  as  the  engagement  is  con- 
cerned. They  are  both  rich,  belong  to  the  same  class 
of  society,  and  no  doubt,  in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  the 
match  would  be  considered  a  very  suitable  one." 

"  Belono^  to  the  same  class?    Goodness  knows !  Does 


BELLEVIEW.  135 

that  necessiiate  their  marrying  ?  Are  there  not  tlious- 
ands  around  them  belonging  to  the  same  class  ?" 

''  I  remember  your  telling  me  once,  yourself,  that  the 
family  desired  the  match." 

"Well,  what  if  they  do?  His  family  desires  it,  and 
so  does  he,  I  admit,  but  I  am  also  certain  that  she  does 
not ;  and  she  is  not  the  kind  of  a  girl  to  be  overruled  in 
so  serious  a  matter,  against  her  own  inclinations,  by  his 
or  his  family's  wishes." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  it  matters,  after  all,"  he 
said,  doggedly.  "  It  does  not  lessen  my  folly  in  the 
least." 

"  You  consider  it  folly,  then,  to  fall  in  love  with  such 
a  girl?" 

"  It  is  one  that  no  man  need  be  ashamed  of,"  he  an- 
swered, with  reddening  face,  entirely  oblivious  of  his, 
own  inconsistency,  "  for  how  could  au}^  one  help  it,  who 
knew  her  ?     What  could  be  more  natural  ?" 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  then,  and  you  love  her  as  you 
say  you  do,  why  don't  you  try  to  win  her  ?" 

The  color  deepened  on  his  face,  and  he  could  hardly 
keep  his  seat  under  the  point-blank  question. 

"  That  would  be  folly,  indeed,  when  there  is  no  pos- 
sible chance  of  success." 

"You  have  addressed  her,  then?" 

"  No." 

"  How  do  you  know,  then,  that  there  is  no  possibility 
of  success?" 

"  How  could  there  be,  when  I  have  neither  fame,  for- 
tune, nor  position  to  offer?" 

"  You  have  love  to  offer,  haven't  you?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  what  right  have  I  to  think  that  she  would 
accept  my  poor  love  alone?  She  would  treat  my 
presumption  with  scorn,  and  despise  me  as  a  fortune- 
hunter." 

"  If  that  is  the  opinion  you  have  of  her  character, 
I  think  you  must  be  mistaken  in  your  own  heart.  You 
are  certainly  not  in  love  with  one  you  think   so   meanly 

"Mrs.  Martin,"  he  said,  humbly,  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don, and — hers.  I  did  not  mean  that  she  would  marry 
for  these  considerations,  but  that  she  vrould  misconstrue 
my  motives." 

I  do  not  think  she  would." 


136  ELMA    SECURES    AN    ALLY. 

''  And  theu  vfhat  reason  have  I  to  hope  that  she  would 
regard  my  suit  with  favor." 

"  My  husband  would  tell  you  that  there  were  two 
things  that  it  is  impossible  to  foretell.  One  is,  what 
verdict  a  jury  will  render ;  and  the  other,  who  a  woman 
vrill  marr}^ !" 

He  arose  excitedly,  and  took  a  turn  or  two  across  the 
room.  Coming  back  to  the  hearth,  he  asked,  in  a 
trembling  voice  :  "  Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  I  would 
have  hopes  of  success—  that — that  she  would  return  my 
love?" 

"I  mean  to  imply  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  have  no 
knowledge  of  Elma's  feelings  towards  you  ;  and  even  if 
I  did,  would  certainly  not  betray  them  to  you.  It  is 
your  business  to  find  that  out  for  yourself." 

His  feathers  fell  in  an  instant. 

''  And  receive  for  an  answer,"  he  said,  bitterly,  "that 
she  was  not  seeking  an  alliance  with  a  '  Yankee  school- 
teacher.   " 

"  Mr.  AYyndship,  I  am  ashamed  of  j'ou,"  was  the  in- 
dignant reply.  "  Have  you  gone  crazj^? — has  hard  study 
turned  your  brain?  You  are  a  perfect  monomaniac  on  the 
subject  of  social  distinctions.  Haven't  joii  been  with 
us  long  enough  yet  to  get  rid  of  all  those  foolish  preju- 
dices ?  Have  you  forgotten  that  this  is  a  free  country, 
where  such  considerations  do  not,  or  should  not,  have 
any  weight?  I  belong  to  the  same  class  that  Ehna 
Owens  does — my  family  is  as  respectable,  if  not  quite  so 
rich — and  I — "  here  the  speaker  straightened  up  with  as 
much  dignity  as  she  could  possibly  assume — "  and  I 
married  a  Northern  gentleman  as  poor  as  yourself ;  still, 
I  have  never  thought,  have  never  been  told,  have  never 
had  cause  to  believe  that  anybody  else  thought,  I  mar- 
ried beneath  my  station.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to 
do  ?  Are  you  going  to  wait  for  Elma  to  come  and  tell 
you  beforehand  that  your  love  will  be  accepted  ?  If  you 
do,  you  will  wait  a  long  time  ;  Southern  girls  do  not  do 
that  way  ;  neither  do  I  believe  they  do  at  the  North." 

''  I  am  going  to  do  whatever  you  advise.  I  have  the 
utmost  confidence  in  your  judgment  and  sympathy,  and 
will  pursue  whatever  course  you  think  I  should,  regard- 
less of  consequences." 

*'Even  run  the  risk  of  being  called  a  fortune- 
hunter?" 


BELLEVIEW.  137 

*'  Even  that." 

*' It  is  said  that  love  blinds  the  eyes  to  faults,  but 
yoiu's  seem  to  make  you  blind  to  virtues." 

"  You  are  severe  ;  but  I  deserve  it,  I  suppose.  If  I 
am  craz}^,  it  is  because  of  a  love  that  I  can  neither  con- 
trol nor  subdue.  If  I  am  imreasonable  and  inconsistent, 
it  is  because  that  I  would  not,  for  the  world,  lose  the 
good  opinion  of  the  woman  I  love.  My  ambition,  even, 
has  changed.  The  plaudits  of  the  world  are  valueless, 
now,  unless  they  are  accompanied  by  hers.  Suc- 
cess that  she  cannot  share  and  enjoy,  will  be  as  bitter  as 
the  Dead  Sea  fruit.     Now,  what  must  I  do?" 

Mrs.  Martin's  face  kindled,  and  her  eyes  sparkled 
through  the  moisture  of  sj^mpathy. 

"  Go  and  tell  her  that,"  she  said,  "  and  my  word  for 
it,  that  whatever  her  answer  may  be,  she  will  still  enter- 
tain for  you  the  kindest  of  feelings.  I  know  of  no 
reason  wh}^  she  should  not  return  j^our  love  ;  but,  even 
if  she  does  not,  you  may  rest  assured  that  you  will  not 
thereby  lose  her  friendship  and  respect.  Such  a  dec- 
laration is  the  highest  compliment  you  could  possibly 
pay  her,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  she  will  so  regard  it." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WTNDSHIP   UNDERTAKES    TO    FOLLOW   ADVICE. 

When  the  advice  we  receive  runs  in  accordance  with 
our  personal  inclinations,  we  are  not  apt  to  let  it  pass 
unheeded.  So  it  was  with  Wyndship.  Before  the  in- 
terview with  Mrs.  Blartin,  recorded  in  the  last  chapter, 
such  an  idea  as  following  the  course  she  had  advised,  if 
it  had  crossed  his  mind,  would  have  been  dismissed  as 
an  act  of  insane  folly ;  but  now  its  aspect  was  in  a 
great  manner  changed.  He  had  promised  her  that  he 
would  follow  whatever  counsel  she  gave,  and  respect  for 
his  word,  if  nothing  else,  required  compliance.  The  res- 
olution to  do  a  thing  is  often  half  the  battle,  and  if  there 
is  a  coveted  prize  to  reward  success,  our  spirits  will  rise 
in  due  proportion.  Xow  he  did  not  throw  off  his  de- 
spairing mood  entirely,  and  go  to  the  other  extreme  ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  demon  of  doubt  lacked  a  good  deal  of 


138  WYNDSHIP  UNDERTAKES  TO  FOLLOW  ADVICE. 

being  fully  exorcised ;  still,  the  soft,  low  voice  of  hope 
began  to  utter  encouraging  whispers  and  brighter  spir- 
its, who  prophesied  of  happiness  untold,  struggled 
bravely  with  the  old  tyrant  for  the  possession  of  his 
soul. 

"Wanting  in  courage,  and  anxious  to  get  rid  of  the 
agony  of  suspense,  he  at  first  spoiled  a  dozen  sheets  of 
paper  in  attempting  to  write  what  he  longed  to  say. 
But  nothing  he  could  write  was  satisfactory  ;  so,  after  a 
wanton  waste  of  stationery,  he  threw  down  his  pen,  re- 
solving to  wait  until  an  opportunity  came,  and  then  to 
*'  verbally  tell  his  tale." 

The  first  Saturday  afterwards  was  bright  and  beauti- 
ful, just  such  a  day  as  even  January  sometimes  bestows 
on  southern  climes,  as  if  nature  desired  to  encourage 
and  facilitate  his  enterprise  of  love  ;  but,  notwithstand- 
ing its  approving  smiles,  when  morning  came,  his  cour- 
age began  to  evaporate.  The  day  before,  he  had  re- 
solved to  go  to  Belleview  in  the  forenoon — now  he 
thought  the  afternoon  would  do  better  ;  and,  no  doubt, 
when  that  time  came,  he  would  find  some  argument  in  fa- 
vor of  putting  off  the  visit  until  after  supper.  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin, who  was  not  altogether  ignorant  of  the  struggle  go- 
ing on  between  desire  and  cowardice,  began  to  wonder 
if  she  would  not  yet  have  to  invent  some  excuse  to 
bring  the  two  together.  However,  relief  came  in  an- 
other way.  After  dinner  he  was  assisting  her  in  trim- 
ming some  shrubbery  in  the  front  yard,  when  Charley 
Hurst  drove  up  to  the  gate.  In  reply  to  Mrs.  Martin's 
invitation  to  get  out,  the  latter  stated  that  he  did  not 
have  time — that  he  was  going  out  to  Belleview  to  carry 
a  message  from  Colonel  Gachet,  whom  he  had  seen  that 
morning  in  Milton. 

"  Come,  go  with  me,  Wyndship,"  he  added.  ''  The 
Colonel  has  gone  to  Milledgeville  on  political  business, 
and  Leon  is  in  Macon,  assisting  in  the  organization  of  a 
company  of  volunteers,  to  become  State  guards,  should 
secession  carry,  so  you  see  the  ladies  must  be  lone- 
some." 

Wyndship  glanced  at  Mrs.  Martin,  and  began  to  snip 
recklessly  with  the  shears  at  the  nearest  rose-bush. 

"  Hold  up,  young  man,  that  rose  doesn't  need  trim- 
ming. Are  you  waiting  for  me  to  furnish  you  with  an 
excuse  like  Charley's?"  she  continued,  relieving  him  of 


BELLEVIEW.  139 

the  pmniug  shears.  "AVell,  go  and  change  your  coat, 
and  I  will  try  to  think  up  some  message." 

''  I  didn't  know  he  went  often  enough  to  require  an 
excuse,"  said  Charley,  laughing,  as  AVyndship  turned 
towards  the  house. 

"  How  comes  it,  sir,  that  j^ou  had  to  find  an  excuse 
for  going  to  Belleview  ?  "  interrogated  the  lady. 

''  Because  this  is  not  my  regular  day." 

''  So  they  have  ruled  you  down  to  certain  days,  have 
they?" 

''  I'm  afraid  to  venture  too  often,  you  see,  unless  I 
can  bring  my  extra  visits  in  under  a  plea  of  duty  or  ne- 
cessity." 

*'  And  you  find  it  a  very  pleasant  duty,  no  doubt?" 

''Ah,  Mrs.  Martin,"  he  answered,  dropping  his  jest- 
ing tone,  "if  all  of  life's  duties  were  as  pleasant,  we 
would  want  no  better  heaven." 


If  the  righteous  experience  as  much  embarrassment 
on  their  first  introduction  into  heaven  as  Wyndship  felt 
when  he  again  stood  face  to  face  with  Elma  in  the  par- 
lor at  Belleview,  then  an  entrance  into  that  celestial 
abode  is  not  a  moment  of  such  unalloyed  pleasure  as  we 
are  taught  to  believe.  His  trepidation  was  further 
increased  by  the  fact  that  she  greeted  him  with  more  re- 
serve than  she  had  ever  shown  him  before  ;  and  augur- 
ing the  v/orst  from  this,  his  heart  at  once  turned  sick,  as 
he  thought  of  the  rejection  which,  his  fears  told  him, 
would  be  his  reward.  His  tongue  became  too  thick  for 
use,  and  he  vaguely  wondered  if  the  beating  of  his 
heart  was  not  audible  to  all  in  the  room  ;  and  also  how 
he  would  ever  be  able  to  speak  the  sentences  he  had  com- 
mitted to  memory. 

Evidently,  four  persons  in  one  room  was  too  large  a 
crowd  for  Charley,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  pro- 
posed a  boat-ride  on  the  pond. 

"It  is  too  fine  a  day,"  he  said,  "  to  be  moping  in- 
doors. When  '  Old  Father  Probs'  send  us  such  weather 
as  this  in  January,  he  means  for  us  to  make  use  of  it ; 
in  fact,  not  to  do  so,  would  be  sinful  extravagance." 

No  one  could  dispute  the  wisdom  of  this  proposition, 
consequently  the   four  were   soon  traversing  the  path 


140        WYNDSHIP   UNDERTAKES   TO   FOLLOW   ADVICE. 

that  led  clown  to  the  boat-house  ;  Wyndship  and  Ehiia 
leading,  being  placed  in  front  by  Charley's  manoeuvres. 
AiTiving  at  the  landing,  the  former  assisted  his  compan- 
ion to  a  seat  in  the  boat,  and  then  stood  waiting  for-  the 
other  two,  who  had  walked  much  slower,  to  come  up. 

"You  can  paddle  the  boat  alone,  W^^ndship,  I  reckon 
— if  not,  make  Miss  Elma  help  you.  Miss  Mollie  and 
I  are  going  to  walk  around  by  the  dam.  Maybe  we  will 
find  some  early  violets." 

' '  Who  ever  heard  of  violets  in  the  woods  this  time  of 
the  year?"  asked  Elma,  mockingly,  while  MoUie's  face 
looked  painfull}^  conscious. 

"  We'll  meet  you  at  the  grove,"  replied  Charley,  ig- 
noring her  question.  The  kind  of  violets  he  hoped  to 
find,  grow  and  blossom  at  all  seasons  of  the  jesiw 

Wyndship  took  his  seat  and  nervously  pushed  off 
from  the  shore.  Out  in  the  middle  of  the  little  sheet  of 
water,  he  desisted  from  his  paddling,  and  allowed  the 
boat  to  drift  as  it  pleased.  Not  a  word  was  spoken 
between  the  two  in  the  meantime — Elma,  with  a  half 
averted  face,  sat  watching  the  couple  sauntering  among 
the  willov\'s  on  the  bank.  The  3^oung  man  felt  that  the 
supreme  moment  of  his  life  had  come,  that  now,  if  ever, 
he  must  follow  Mrs.  Martin's  advice  ;  but  his  tongue 
failed  him,  refusing  to  speak  even  commonplace  words 
at  his  bidding.  There  was  a  big  lump  in  his  throat,  and 
his  hand  shook  so  as  to  cause  the  paddle  he  was  hold- 
ing to  beat  a  half-audible  tattoo  on  the  side  of  the  boat. 
Within  reach  sat  the  girl  he  had  come  to  address,  and 
not  a  soul  was  in  hearing  ;  still  the  chosen  words  had 
slipped  away  beyond  recall. 

Perceiving  that  beginning  the  conversation — if  there 
was  to  be  an}^ — developed  upon  herself,  Elma,  with  prob- 
ably more  awkwardness  than  she  had  ever  before  felt  in 
her  life,  remarked : 

"  AYhat  are  you  thinking  about,  Mr.  Wyndship?  You 
are  unusually  distrait  this  evening." 

*'  About — about — Avhat  beautiful  weather  we  are  hav- 
ing for  this  season  of  the  year,"  he  stammered  out,  des- 
perately, and  as  the  absurdity  of  his  reply  dawned  on 
his  perturbed  faculties,  he  fairly  shivered  with  shame. 

She  could  not  suppress  a  smile  at  the  answer ;  still  she 
pitied  his  misery. 

"  Yes,  we  are  a  favored  peojple  in   a   favored   land," 


BELLE  VIEW.  141 

she  answered,  in  a  light  tone.  ''  Mother  Nature  lav- 
isiies  on  us  lier  rarest  gifts,  and,"  she  added,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  "  you  see  how  much  you  have  gained 
by  becoming  a  Georgian." 

He  could  not  trust  himself  to  make  another  blunder- 
ing reply,  so  said  nothing. 

"  I  think  drifting  in  a  boat  on  an  evening  like  this  the 
most  delightful  of  all  employments,  if  it  can  be  called 
one.     Don't  you?" 

''Yes." 

The  monosyllable  was  some  encouragement,  so  she 
continued : 

"It  is  an  occupation  for  which  we  lazy  Southern  people 
are  peculiarly  adapted.  ^Ve  thoroughly  appreciate  the 
philosophy  of  '  Dolce  far  niente,'  but  I  doubt  if  you 
are  able  to  enjoy  it  so  much." 

''Why  not?" 

"  Because  you  are  not  indolent.  The  Southern  peo- 
ple study  and  dream — the  Northern  people  think  and 
act.  Now,  in  time,  you  will  learn  to  dream  like  us  ;  but 
now,  I  dare  say,  you  are  wishing  yourself  away  at  some 
more  practical  and  useful  employment." 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  am  not  wishing  myself  away." 

Again  she  smiled,  for  she  felt  assured  that  a  few 
minutes  before,  he  had  been  wishing  it  quite  strongly. 

"  Be  candid,  now,  and  acknowledge  that  you  had 
rather  be  with  your  books." 

"I  assure  you,  I  had  rather  not." 

"  Then  your  education  and  acclimation  is  progressing 
finely,  and  you  will  soon  be  as  indolent  as  a  native-born 
Southerner." 

' '  Are  all  Southerners  lazy  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  you  Northerners  think  ! " 

He  was  getting  further  and  further  away  from  the 
purpose  of  his  visit.  "  Why  does  she  harp  so  continu- 
ally," he  thought,  "  on  the  fact  that  I  am  a  Yankee,  and 
she  a  daughter  of  the  South,  if  it  is  not  for  the  purpose 
of  warning  me  off?  More  than  this,  she  has  even  chal- 
lenged me  to  a  sectional  discussion."  This  challenge, 
however,  he  did  not  accept. 

"  This  is  a  race  between  the  tortoise  and  the  snail," 
she  resumed,  after  a  few  minutes'  silence,  pointing  to 
the  couple  on  the  bank,  still  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
the  landing.     "  It  might  be   interesting  to   a  looker-on 


142        WYNDSHIP    UNDERTAKES    TO    FOLLOW   ADVICE. 

to  ascertain  which,  they,  or  ourselves,  will  first  arrive  at 
the  rendezvous." 

For  a  reply,  IVyndship  caught  up  the  paddle  to  accel- 
erate their  own  progress. 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  use  in  hurrying.  We  would  have  to 
wait  at  the  grove,  or  return  alone.  Speed  on  our  part 
would  not  stimulate  them." 

He  laid  down  the  paddle  obediently,  and  the  silent 
drifting  was  renewed. 

*'I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  again  beginning  the  conver- 
sation, "  for  the  sufferings  you  are  having  to  undergo 
on  account  of  enforced  idleness,  and  wish  that  I  could 
alleviate  them  in  some  way." 

"  Do  you,  really?"  he  asked,  quickly,  almost  starting 
from  his  seat,  at  the  impulse  to  tell  her  how  she  could 
most  effectually  relieve  his  suffering. 

She  noticed  the  start,  and  the  change  in  his  manner, 
and  tbrowiug  all  the  indifference  she  could  assume  into 
her  tone,  she  answered,  carelessly,  "Of  course.    I " 

"  Sing  something,  then,"  he  almost  ordered,  shrinking 
back  into  his  seat  again. 

She  looked  at  him,  hardly  knowing  whether  to  be  an- 
gry or  not.  The  surprise  in  her  face  recalled  him  to  his 
senses,  but  he  had  been  suffering  too  much  to  care  just 
then  for  results. 

"  You  see  I  am  accustomed  to  giving  commands.  Miss 
Owens,  and  always  exact  obedience."  The  bravery  was 
more  assumed  than  real,  for  one  flash  from  those  eyes 
would  have  carried  rout  and  a  panic  through  all  his 
forces.  But  she  decided  not  to  get  angry,  and  the  flash 
did  not  come. 

"  I  am  not  used  to  singing  without  some  accompani- 
ment. 

"  That  is  nothing.     Your  voice  does  not  need  one." 

"What  shall  I  sing?" 

"  Just  anything." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  commenced  that 
sweetest  of  all  love  songs  : 

"  Oh,  fly  to  the  desert,  fly  with  me, 
Our  Arab  tents  are  rude  for  thee : 
Yet  Where's  the  heart,  the  choice  could  doubt, 
Of  tents  with  love,  or  throues  without." 

The  'wOrds  au.l  music  acted  like  some  magic  stimulant, 


BELLE  VIEW.  143 

reviving  his  hopes  and  courage,  and  bringing  the  con- 
viction, that  with  her  to  love  would  be  above  every 
other  consideration.  A  wave  of  passion  swelled  up 
with  irresistible  force,  washed  aside  the  barriers  of  fear 
and  doubt ;  and  scarcely  had  she  finished  the  last  line — 
scarcely  had  the  last  soft  echo  died  from  off  the  water, 
when  he,  too,  commenced  pouring  forth  Zi^s  "  tale  of 
love."  There  was  no  want  of  words  now ;  and,  al- 
though they  were  not  the  ones  he  had  memorized  ;  and 
the  sentences  were  broken,  irregular,  and  sometimes  un- 
grammatical,  still  they  were  eloquent  with  truth  and 
earnestness.  He  told  of  his  fruitless  strife  to  overcome 
this  love  ;  how  he  regretted  her  wealth,  almost  praying 
that  she  might  become  as  poor  as  himself,  so  that  he 
could  prove  that  she  alone  was  the  object  of  his  passion. 
That  he  knew  he  was  not  worthy  of  the  boon  he 
craved,  but  if  she  would  give  him  just  one  word  of 
hope,  lie  would  labor  as  no  Jacob  ever  did  to  make  a 
name  she  would  not  be  ashamed  to  bear ;  and  no  matter 
how  long  his  term  of  probation  might  be,  he  would  strive 
contentedly,  if,  in  the  end,  it  won  her  love  and  approba- 
tion. 

Her  head  drooped  before  the  storm  of  words  as  if  to 
hide  the  tell-tale  blushes  which  covered  her  face  and 
neck.  One  hand  rested  on  the  boat-rail  temptingly  near 
him,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  touch  it  yet.  When  his  elo- 
quence was  exhausted,  and  she  did  not  look  up,  or  re- 
ply, a  chill  of  fear  and  despair  pierced  his  heart ;  for 
what,  he  thought,  could  the  silence  and  averted  face 
mean,  but  displeasure?  In  a  voice  even  more  broken 
than  before,  he  begged  for  just  one  word  to  relieve  his 
suspense,  even  if  that  word  did  confirm  the  sentence  he 
dreaded. 

This  appeal — the  hopelessness  of  his  words  and  tone 
— was  more  than  she  could  resist.  The  blushing  face 
was  raised,  and  the  eyes,  shining  through  a  dewy  mist, 
met  his  bravely,  and  without  flinching.  He  read  there 
neither  anger,  sorrow,  nor  reproach,  but  instead,  some- 
thing which  caused  him  to  utter  an  exclamation — no,  a 
gasp^  of  joyful  surprise.  He  caught  the  hand  he  had 
been  longing  to  take,  and,  as  well  as  he  could,  com- 
menced trying  to  express  his  bliss  and  gratitude. 

''Boat  ahoy!" 

The  harsh  notes  came  like  a  thunder-clap  on  a   cloud- 


144      "JANUARY   AS   BRIGHT   AS   A 

less  day,  and  shattered  their  beautiful  idyl  into  a  thou- 
sand pieces.  She  quickly  reclaimed,  and  he  as  quickly 
surrendered  the  appropriated  hand,  just  as  the  voice  re- 
peated the  hail. 

''Boat  ahoy!  " 

Looking  up,  Wyndshipsaw  Arthur  Slaton  standing  on 
the  bank,  with  his  hands  doubled  about  his  mouth,  in 
imitation  of  a  speaking  trumpet. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  JANUARY  AS  BRIGHT  AS  A  SUMMER's  DAY." 

"Have  you  room  for  another  passenger?"  Slaton 
called  out.  "But — maybe  I  am  intruding,"  he  added, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  with  meaning  emphasis. 
"  If  so,  I  can  wait  until  you  get  j^our  ride  out."  There 
was  more  irony  in  the  last  sentence  than  he  intended, 
for  their  boat  had  been  as  near  still  as  it  was  possible 
for  a  boat  to  be  on  water  ever  since  he  came  in  sight. 

"  Let's  go  ashore,"  whispered  Elma,  in  answer  to 
Wyndship's  look  of  inquiry. 

In  order  to  give  her  time  to  recover  her  composure, 
the  latter  rowed  very  slowly  to  the  landing,  but  when 
there,  quickly  jumped  out,  that  he  might  anticipate  any 
service  Slaton  might  offer  his  companion.  He  wanted 
to  hide  and  protect  her  sweet  discomposure  from  the 
other's  prying  eyes ;  but,  as  for  himself,  he  felt  too 
proud  and  happy  just  then,  to  care  for  the  impudent 
scoundrel's  sneers. 

"I  am  sorry  that  I  interrupted  your  pleasant  boating," 
Slaton  remarked,  with  a  hypocritical  pretence  of  regret. 
"  Had  I  thought  a  moment,  I  would  not  have  called." 
All  the  time  his  cunning  eyes  were  closely  scanning  their 
countenances  for  what  they  could  discover.  "But  where 
is  Miss  Mollie  and  Hurst?  Mrs.  Gachet  said  they  were 
down  here,  too." 

"There  they  are,"  answered  Wyndship,  carelessly, 
pointing  to  the  couple,  still  on  the  same  spot  where  Elma 
had  pointed  them  out  from  the  boat. 

"  They  didn't  go  out  on  the  pond  with  you?" 


BELLETIEW.  145 

"  No,  they  preferred  walking  round  by  the  dam,  and 
were  to  meet  us  at  the  grove." 

"  It  seems  that  neither  of  you  got  there,"  he  sug- 
gested, insinuatingly,  his  uncertain  eyes  peering  into 
first  one  and  then  the  other  face. 

AYyndship's  new-found  joy  had  brought  with  it  a  stock 
of  assurance  ;  besides,  in  his  proud  happiness,  he  felt 
like  he  could  treat  his  enemy's  prying  questions  with 
good-natured  contempt,  so  he  answered  with  a  smile  : 

"  No.  It  was  too  fine  an  evening  for  exertion.  I 
was  too  lazy  to  row,  and  I  suppose  they  were  too  lazy 
to  walk." 

"In  the  meantime,  Charley  and  Mollie  had  left  their 
seat  at  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  were  approaching. 
They  bore  no  violets  in  their  hands,  but  the  exultant 
light  in  his  eyes,  and  the  shame-faced  happiness  in  hers, 
proved  that  their  search  had  not  been  unrewarded. 

Elma,  accompanied  by  Wyndship  on  one  side,  and 
Slaton  on  the  other,  turned  up  the  path  towards  the 
house.  During  the  return  trip,  the  latter  had  most  of 
the  conversation  to  himself.  AVyndship  felt  too  much 
like  a  man  intoxicated  with  etherealized  wine,  to  listen 
to  his  uninteresting  remarks. 

On  the  porch  he  hesitated.  He  ardently  wished 
to  be  alone  with  Elma,  if  only  for  a  few  minutes,  that 
he  might  tell  her  in  more  coherent  language  how  happy 
she  had  made  him,  and  how  enduring  would  be  his  love 
and  gratitude ;  but  Slaton  showed  no  indications  of 
leaving,  and  his  presence  would  kill  all  the  pleasure. 
Just  then  he  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  sharing 
her  company  during  the  evening,  with  one  whom  he  so 
thoroughly  disliked. 

"Are  you  going  back  with,  me,  AVyndship?"  asked 
Charley,  when  he  and  IMollie  came  up.  "  I  don't  like 
to  hurry  you,"  he  continued,  "  but  I  promised  my  mother 
to  be  back  before  dark,  and  carry  her  out  to  sit  up  with 
Mrs.  Ballou's  sick  child  ;  and  I  want  to  see  you  on  some 
business  before  I  go  back  to  Milton." 

This  decided  Wyndship,  so,  with  an  inward  resolu- 
tion to  see  Elma  next  day,  he  signified  his  readiness  to 
go.  Bidding  his  sweetheart  only  a  polite  good-evening 
was  not  at  all  to  his  taste,  and  he  tried  to  make  his  eyes 
express,  in  part,  what  the  presence  of  others  forbade 
his  saying  in  words. 


146        "  JANUARY    AS    BRIGHT   AS    A    SUMMEr's    DAY.** 

There  was  not  much  conversation  between  the  two 
young  men  on  the  way  back,  but  as  they  drove  up  to  Mr. 
Martin's  gate,  Charley  started,  as  if  suddenly  awaking 
from  a  day-dream,  and  said  : 

"  I  declare,  we've  both  been  as  dumb  as  owls.  What 
have  you  been  thinking  about?" 

*' I  might  ask  the  same  question  of  you,"  answered 
Wyndship,  with  some  confusion. 

"  I  was  thinking  about  something  very  pleasant,  I  as- 
sure you.  But  I  came  very  near  forgetting  the  business 
I  wanted  to  talk  with  you  about.  Well,  it  is  this  :  Mr. 
Harris  thinks  we  ought  to  have  a  partner  in  Milledge- 
ville.  His  old  partner  there  is  retiring  from  practice, 
and  declines  to  take  an  interest  in  any  new  cases.  He 
went  up  there  just  before  Christmas,  but  could  make  no 
satisfactory  arrangement  with  a  resident  lawyer,  and 
the  other  day,  when  we  were  talking  about  the  matter,  I 
mentioned  you.  He  caught  the  suggestion  at  once,  said 
you  was  the  very  man,  and  requested  me  to  speak  to 
you  about  it.     How  do  you  think  it  will  suit  you  ?  " 

"Suit  me!"  exclaimed  Wyndship,  in  surprise. 
"  Nothing  would  suit  me  better,  but — but  there  is  my 
school — my  terra  will  not  be  out  for  several  months 
yet." 

"How  long?" 

"  Some  time  in  June,  I  think." 

"  I  spoke  of  that,  and  he  said  it  should  not  be  an  ob- 
stacle. If  you  will  say  that  you  will  accept  our  offer, 
we  will  wait  until  then." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  this  is  your  work,  and  that 
through  friendship  for  me,  you  are  sacrificing  your  own 
interest?" 

"  By  no  means.  Harris  is  just  as  eager  for  the  ar- 
rangement as  I  am.  1  did  not  know  that  you  and  he 
were  so  well  acquainted  before — at  any  rate,  he  ex- 
pressed a  high  opinion  of  your  legal  attainments,  and 
also  of  your  personal  character.  Shall  we  call  it  a 
trade?" 

"  Of  course,  I  cannot  refuse  such  an  offer  as  you  have 
made  me.     I  accept  with  pleasure." 

"  All  right ;  we  will  consider  that  much  settled  ;  the 
details  we  can  arrange  some  other  time.  Let  me  see, 
Mr.  Harris  will  be  in  Milton  next  Saturday.  Can't  you 
meet  him  there,  so  that  you  two  can   talk   the   matter 


.       ,^-  .-=^  BELLEVIEW.  147 

over?  Very  good,  I  will  look  for  you.  Good-night." 
Charley  drove  away  in  the  gathering  twilight,  softly 
humming  a  love  song,  while  Wyndship  entered  the 
house  almost  dazed  by  so  much  happiness  and  good  for- 
tune falling  to  his  lot  in  one  evening. 

* 'Humph,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  as  they  gathered 
around  the  supper-table,  *' where  have  you  been  to  get 
rid  of  all  your  solemncholy  ?  I  don't  know  when  I've 
seen  you  in  as  good  a  humor  before." 

"  I  have  just  had  a  very  advantageous  offer — one  that 
I  was  little  expecting." 

' '  Indeed  ?  What  was  it  ?  Some  widow  with  '  darkies, 
plantations,  and  farms,'  asked  you  to  be  her  husband?" 

The  color  mounted  into  the  young  man's  face.  "  No  ; 
I  was  not  jesting.  I  have  had  a  very  desirable  legal 
partnership  offered  me." 

"  Well,  wouldn't  that  be  a  legal  partnership?  But 
who  is  your  offer  from?" 

"  From  Charley  Hurst  and  his  partner,  Mr.  Harris. 
They  want  me  to  locate  in  Milledgeville,"  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  narrate  what  had  passed  between  Charley  and 
himself  a  few  minutes  before. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Martin,  heartily. 

"  Yes,  it  gives  me  so  much  better  an  opening  than  I 
expected,  that  I  feel  unusually  elated.  I  think  it  must 
be  Charley's  doings,  as  my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Har- 
ris is  slight,  having  only  met  him  twice." 

"  He  has  been  making  inquiries  about  you,  though," 
remarked  Mr.  Martin,  quietly. 

"How  do  you  know? " 

' '  By  personal  experience — the  last  time  I  was  in  Ma- 
con." 

"  Then  it  is  you  I  must  thank  for  the  offer?" 

"  No  ;  I  don't  suppose  that  what  I  said  had  any  in- 
fluence with  him  in  the  matter — anyway,  you  had  better 
wait  to  see  whether  the  offer  does  you  any  good,  before 
giving  thanks." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Wyndship   in  surprise. 

"  My  young  friend,"  said  Mr.  Martin,  very  seriously, 
*'  have  you  counted  all  the  cost?" 

"What  cost?" 

"  There  is  no  doubt,  now,  but  what  Georgia  will  se- 
cede from  the  Union.  The  other  Southern  States  that 
have  not  already  done  so,  will  soon  follow,  and  will  form 


a  new  republic.  If  you  accept  this  offer,  and  locate 
permanently  here,  you  will  have  to  go  with  us — must  be- 
come a  citizen  of  this  new  government.  Arc  you  pre- 
pared to  forswear  your  allegiance  to  the  United 
States?" 

^' Are  you  certain  that — that  this  will  be  the  result?  " 

"  I  feel  assured  that  it  will.  I  was  talking  with  ])r. 
Hurst  to-day,  and  that  was  his  opinion.  He  is  not  a 
man  to  give  up  a  case  as  long  as  there  is  a  fighting 
chance,  and  he  told  me  that  he  no  longer  had  any  hopes. 
He  looks  for  stormy  times  in  the  near  future." 

Some  of  the  joy  died  out  of  the  young  man's  face. 
The  idea  that  his  love  and  patriotism  might  come  in 
conflict,  had  never  entered  his  mind, -so  preoccupied  had 
he  been  with  the  former ;  and,  consequently,  the  alter- 
native presented  was  something  of  a  surprise.  He 
played  absently  with  his  fork  during  the  silence  that 
followed,  seemingly  absorbed  in  thought. 

*'  I  mention  this,"  resumed  Mr.  Martin,  atlength,  *'  be- 
cause I  thought  3^ou  ought  *to  consider  this  point  before 
deciding  to  accept  this  offer." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  You  are  as  much  a  cit- 
izen of  the  United  States  as  myself." 

"  But  I  am  first  a  citizen  of  Georgia,  and  must  neces- 
sarily abide  by  the  action  of  the  majority." 

"And  so  am  I.  If  she  goes  out  of  the  Union,  then 
I  must  abide  the  result,  just  as  you  will."  The  cloud 
vanished  from  his  face,  and  the  happiness,  momentarily 
under  eclipse,  returned.  Between  his  love  and  patriot- 
ism there  could  be  no  serious  struggle — the  first  was  too 
all-powerful  for  the  latter  to  cause  more  than  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

*' What  did  the  Doctor  say  about  Lizzie  Ballou?" 
asked  Mrs.  Martin,  anxious  to  change  the  subject. 

''  He  regards  her  case  as  being  about  as  hopeless  as 
the  Union  cause,"  replied  her  husband. 

Wyndship  lingered  at  the  table  after  his  host  had  left, 
fidgeting  uneasily  in  his  chair,  as  if  there  was  some- 
thing he  wanted  to  say,  and  didn't  know  how  to  com- 
mence. 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  call?" 

"  It  could  not  have  been  pleasanter,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  reddening  face,  forgetting  the   disagreeable   inter- 


BELLEVIEW.  1 49 

rnptlon.  This  answer  was  enough  ;  no  other  question 
was  considered  necessary  by  his  confidante. 

*'  I  am  very  glad,"  she  answered,  softly.  "  I  hope 
you  will  never  have  cause  to  regret  following  my  ad- 
vice." 

*'0h!  Mrs.  Martin,"  he  cried,  impulsively,  ''how 
much  I  am  indebted  to  you !  AVhat  a  shipwreck  I 
would  have  made  of  my  happiness,  had  I  not  listened 
to  you?  It  is  to  your  kind  heart,  and  to  your  whole- 
some advice,  that  I  owe  the  greatest  happiness-  ever 
vouchsafed  to  mortal  man.  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
pay  you  one-tenth  of  my  debt  of  gratitude." 

"  To  see  you  and  Elma  both  happy,  will  -be  pay 
enough.  There  is  only  one  thing  that  I  fear,  and  that, 
I  think,  will  be  removed  in  time." 

''  What  is  that?"  he  asked, eagerly. 

"  That  you  do  not  fully  appreciate  her  character — 
that  you  haven't  yet  given  her  credit  for  all  the  good 
qualities  that  she  possesses.  As  I  told  you  before,  it 
seems  that  love  has  made  you  blind  to  her  virtues,  and 
not  to  her  faults." 

' '  You  will  never  have  cause  to  throw  that  up  to  me 
again.  I  believe  her  to  be  all  that  is  pure,  and  good, 
and  lovable.  An  angel  from  Heaven  could  hardly  be 
more  perfect  in  my  eyes." 

She  smilingly  shook  her  head  at  his  extravagance,  as 
they  arose  from  the  table  ;  but,  as  events  proved,  her 
fear  was  not  altogether  groundless.  His  faith  was  soon 
to  be  tested,  and  some  years  afterwards  he  remembered 
this  warning  with  a  very  sore  heart,  if  not  with  a  prick- 
ing conscience. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
"I     WAS     mistaken"  —  "falser     than    all     fancy 

FATHOMS." 

What  a  change  everything  had  undergone  in  Wynd- 
ship's  eyes? — and  he  marveled,  that  a  few  bright  days 
in  January  should  produce  such  wonderful  effect.  The 
sun  shone  brightly,  the  birds  sang  sweetly,  the  stars 
twinkled  so  merrily  at  night ;  even  the  piles  of  last  years' 
leaves,  and  the  naked  boughs  overhead  had  lost  their 


150  "I    WAS    MISTAKEN." 

dreary  look.  Nature  and  nature's  subjects  were  as  gay 
as  if  no  cruel  frost  had  smote  them  with  its  magic 
wand. 

Nor  was  the  change  confined  to  these  alone — ^the  peo- 
ple looked  happier,  his  pupils  were  more  obedient,  and 
the  duties  of  the  school-room  had  become  less  onerous 
than  before.  All  the  troubles  and  trials  of  life  seemed 
to  have  vanished,  melting  away  like  thin  mist  before  a 
morning's  sun.  But  the  change  was  in  him — he  had 
donned  a  pair  of  golden-hued  spectacles,  and  saw 
everything  through  their  yellow  light.  Had  fate  pre- 
sented a  pair  smoked  in  the  fires  of  adversity,  what  a 
difference  there  would  have  been  in  his  vision. 

But  he  soon  met  with  a  slight  disappointment,  never- 
theless. The  very  next  day,  at  church,  he  learnt  that 
Elma  would  not  be  at  home  that  afternoon,  and  conse- 
quently, he  had  to  give  up  his  intended  visit.  This  did 
not  matter  much,  however — his  happiness  being  too 
great  to  be  affected  by  such  a  trifle. 

On  Thursday,  at  noon,  he  dismissed  his  school  for 
the  day,  that  those  of  his  pupils,  who  wished,  might  go 
to  the  burial  of  their  little  playmate,  Lizzie  Ballon, 
which  he  expected  to  attend  also,  with  Mrs.  Martin. 
After  dinner,  and  before  the  appointed  hour,  this  lady 
called  him  into  the  parlor,  to  inspect  a  bouquet  of  hot- 
house flowers.  She  had  stripped  her  collection  that 
morning,  to  adorn  the  coffin  of  the  dead  child,  and  had 
reserved  a  few  of  the  most  attractive. 

"  I  expect  you  would  like  to  send  that  to  some  one  of 
our  acquaintance  ?  "  she  said,  after  he  had  expressed  his 
admiration  in  suitable  terms. 

He  tried  to  look  surprised,  but  failed. 

"Such  a  pretence  as  that  won't  do,"  she  continued, 
with  a  laugh.  "  I  know  that  you  are  almost  dying  for 
the  privilege  of  making  such  an  offering  at  the  shrine 
of  your  idol." 

"  I  hate  to  deprive  you  of  the  last  you  have." 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing — I  will  soon  have  plenty  more." 

*'  Well — if  you  can  spare  them." 

"  Certainly — only,  sending  flowers  to  Belieview  is  like 
'  sending  coals  to  Newcastle.'  Still,  she  will  prize  them 
as  coming  from  you.  Carlos  is  going  down  to  the  plan- 
tation, and  can  stop  and  leave  them  as  he  passes  by ; 


BELLE  VIEW.  151 

SO'go  and  write  your  note,  as  he  will  soon  be  ready  to 
start." 

He  quickly  accepted,  and  before  they  left  for  the  vil- 
lage grave-yard,  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  Carlos 
depart,  carefully  conveying  this,  his  first  offering  to  his 
lady  love. 

As  is  usually  the  case  with  burials  in  the  country, 
there  was  some  delay  in  the  programme,  so  that  the 
short  winter  afternoon  was  nearly  exhausted  when  they 
walked  back  through  the  village,  home.  As  they  passed 
the  post-office,  that  official  called  to  AVyndship,  holding 
up  a  letter,  which  he  said  had  been  brought  out  from 
Milton  by  young  Mr.  Slaton,  in  advance  of  the  regular 
mail.  As  he  recognized  his  sister's  writing,  and  noticed  the 
word  '  urgent*  written  in  a  corner  of  the  envelope,  Wynd- 
ship  felt  a  premonition  of  bad  news,  that  caused  him  to 
hesitate  in  the  act  of  breaking  the  seal.  He  turned  the  let- 
ter over  in  his  hands,  scanning  both  sides,  as  if  he 
could  thereby  obtain  some  inkling  as  to  its  contents ; 
but  the  outsido  could  tell  him  nothing  more  than  that 
the  address  appeared  to  be  written  hurriedly,  and  the 
flap  of  the  envelope  was  rough  and  puckered,  as  if  it 
had  been  sealed,  then  opened  before  drying,  and  re- 
sealed. 

"  Why  don't  you  open  and  read  your  letter?"  said 
Mrs.  Martin.     "  Don't  mind  me." 

The  enclosure  proved  to  be  very  short,  but  before  he 
had  read  half  a  dozen  lines,  his  worst  forebodings  were 
realized ;  and  his  face  soon  revealed  to  his  companion 
the  character  of  the  news  it  brought.  His  sister  wrote 
that  their  mother's  health  had  rapidly  grown  worse  in 
the  last  few  days,  and  that  the  attending  physician  ex- 
pressed little  hopes  of  a  recovery.  "  She  is  very  anxious 
to  see  3^ou  again,"  she  said,  "  ancl  can  talk  about  noth- 
ing else.  I  know,  my  dear  brother,  that  you  will  not 
refuse  her  this  satisfaction,  on  what  is,  in  all  probabil- 
ity, her  death-bed,  but  will  come  without  delay.  You 
know  that  3^ou  have  alwa^'s  been  her  favorite  child — her 
pride  and  idol — an.l  your  presence  now  would  be  of 
more  benefit  than  all  the  medicine.  I  would  have  tele- 
graphed, but  I  do  not  know  how  to  reach  you  with  a 
message,  ^nd  the  doctor  thinks  you  can  get  here  in  time 
by  starting  as  soon  as  you  receive  this."  At  the  bot- 
tom of  the  1  etter  there  was  a  hurried  scrawl,  for  a  post- 


1"?  <<I   WAS    iVnSTAKF^.'* 

script,  saying:  " Do  not  delay  ;  mother  is   not   so   well 
since  writing  the  above." 

"  I  fear  your  letter  contains  bad  news,"  said  Mrs. 
Martin,  gently. 

"Yes — yes,  indeed,"  he  answered,  in  a  broken  voice. 
"Imust  go  home  at  once — to-morrow — to-niglit,  if  I 
only  could.     My  mother  is  sick — may  be  dying." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not  so  bad  as  that." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  handed  her  the  letter  to  read. 
While  she  was  thus  engaged,  he  giudually  regained  some 
self-control,  and  arranged  his  ideas.  He  had  no  time  to 
indulge  in  grief,  for  he  must  get  off  very  early  in  the 
morning,  in  order  to  make  connection  with  the  ten 
o'clock  train  at  Milton.  In  the  meantime,  he  must  see 
the  trustees,  and  make  some  arrangement  concerning 
the  school.  Mr.  Harley  lived  tlie  nearer  of  the  two, 
and  would  probably  be  at  home  about  dark. 

"  I  am  so  sorry — far  more  than  I  can  tell  you,"  said 
JMrs.  Martin,  showing  her  sympathy  both  in  eyes  and 
voice.  I  wish  I  could  share  this  trouble  with  you,  for 
it  must  be  hard  to  bear ;  and  she  so  far  away.  But  j^ou 
must  not  give  way  to  despair — we  must  hope  for  the 
best." 

"  If  I  was  only  there — if  I  can  only  get  there  in  time, 
it  would  not  be  so  hard,"  he  said,  her  kindly  sympathy 
causing  him  to  break  down  again.  "  But  I  have  no 
time  for  sorrowing,  I  must  get  ready  to  leave  by  day- 
light, or  before,  in  the  morning." 

"  How  can  I  help  you ?  Can't  I  do  your  packing?" 
"  We  will  attend  to  that  after  supper.  I  shall  only 
take  a  valise  and  a  few  necessary  articles  of  clothing. 
Everything  else  I  will  leave  in  j^our  care.  I  must  first 
see  Mr.  Harley  about  .the  school,  and  then  secure  some 
conveyance  to  Milton." 

'*  Don't  trouble  about  the  latter— Mr.  Martin  will   see 
to  that,  as  soon  as  he  returns  from   the   plantation." 
"  It  might  put  him  to  some  inconvenience." 
*'  You  ought  not  to   say   that,  when   you   know   how 
glad  we  will  both  be  to   render   you   any   assistance   in 
your  trouble." 

"  I  know,  and  shall  never  forget  your  kindness,  Mrs. 
Martin.  I  never  expect  to  have  two  other  friends  so 
kind  and  considerate  as  you  both  have  been.     It   would 


BELLEVIEW.  153 

be  a  waste  of  words  for  me  to  try  to  express  my   grati- 
tude." 

Wyndship's  surmise  about  finding  Mr.  Harley  at 
home,  proved  correct.  He  briefly  explained  to  that 
gentleman  his  trouble,  and  requested  either  a  cancellation 
of  his  engagement,  or  the  privilege  of  an  indefinite  va- 
cation. 

*'  Doubtless  the  former  would  suit  you  better,"  he 
continued,  "  as  I  cannot  say  when  I  will  be  able  to  re- 
turn. That  will  be  just  so  soon  as  my  mother  recovers, 
or_"  he  could  not  finish  the  sentence,  could  not  bring 
his  tongue  to  utter  the  other  condition. 

'<•  I  think  not — no  one  can  blame  you  for  leaving, 
under  the  circumstances,  and  I  think  your  patrons  will 
cheerfully  consent  to  a  vacation.  I,  for  one,  regret  the 
interruption  very  much,  and  hope  you  will  find  your 
mother  much  improved." 

''  I  will  not  have  time  to  see  Major  Dismuke  or  any 
of  the  patrons,  and  so  I  can  only  leave  the  matter  en- 
tirely in  your  hands,  and  will  agree  to  any  arrangement 
you  think  will  suit  all  concerned.  The  vacation  will 
have  to  be  indefinite,  but  I  can  tell  more  about  that 
when  I  get  home,  and  will  write." 

''  Might  I  ask,  Mr.  AVyndship,  if  the  result  of  the 
convention  at  Milledgeville  will  have  any  effect  on  your 
course?" 

*'  None  in  the  least." 

''  The  reason  why  I  asked  the  question  is  because  I 
have  just  heard  that  the  ordinance  of  secession  had 
passed  that  body." 

''  1  was  prepared  for  that  result,  and,  while  I  regret 
it,  have  no  intention  of  altering  my  plans  on  that  ac- 
count.    I  shall  settle  permanently  in  Georgia." 

''  Very  good  ;  write  me  Avhen  you  get  home,  and  for 
the  present,  I  will  assume  the  responsibility  of  consent- 
ing to  a  vacation — until  we  can  see  further." 

After  a  little  more  talk  on  business  matters,  Wynd- 
ship  returned  home,  to  find  supper  Y>\aiting.  Mr.  Mar- 
tin had  come  in  from  his  plantation,  and  at  once  in- 
formed him  that  Carlos  would  have  the  buggy  ready  to 
take  him  to  Milton  next  morning,  in  time  to  catch  the 
train.  He  had  little  appetite  for  supper,  but  seated  at 
the  table,  where  he  had  spent  so  many  pleasant  half  hours, 
his  depression  began  to  give  way  before  the  efforts  of  his 


154 

two  old  friends  to  encourage  bis  hopes  for  the  best. 
Feeling  fully  assured  of  their  interest  and  cordial  sym- 
pathy, it  was  a  relief  to  talk  to  them  about  his  mother ; 
recounting  little  incidents  of  the  past,  with  which  she 
was  connected — of  her  devoted  love  for  him ;  of  her 
endless  care  for  his  comfort ;  and  of  the  thousand  sac- 
rifices she  had  made,  that  his  course  through  college 
might  not  be  interrupted.  All  this  was  a  pleasure,  al- 
though a  mournful  one,  and  did  much  to  revive  his  spir- 
its, and  to  kindle  a  hope,  that  after  all,  his  sister's  fears 
might  have  been  exaggerated.  If  this  hope  w^ould  only 
prove  true,  and  his  mother  be  spared  to  him  for  some 
years  longer,  then  his  cup  of  joy  would  be  filled  to  the 
brim.  Just  so  soon  as  she  was  able  to  travel,  he  would 
bring  her  back  to  Georgia,  where  the  soft  and  genial  cli- 
mate would  complete  the  task  of  restoring  her  health, 
and  she  would  live  to  be  his  best  and  safest  counsellor 
through  the  years  of  his  struggle  for  advancement. 
Surely,  Providence  would  not  be  so  cruel  as  to  deprive 
him  of  her  society  and  advice  just  at  this  time,  when 
he  began  to  feel  the  need  of  it  most  acutely. 

' '  Do  you  intend  calling  on  any  of  your  friends  to- 
night, to  say  good-bye  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Martin,  at  the 
close  of  the  meal. 

"  I  would  lilie  to " 

"  Well,  tell  me  what  you  want  to  take  with  you,  and 
I  will  pack  your  valise,  so  that  you  will  have  nothing 
to  do  but  to  go  to  bed,  when  you  return.  You  must 
get  a  good  night's  sleep,  for  your  trip  will  be  a  long  and 
wearying  one." 

"  There  is  never  an  end  to  your  kindness,"  he  an- 
swered, gratefully.  *'  Just  fill  it  with  what  you  think  I 
will  mostly  need." 

Rising,  he  went  across  the  hall  to  his  room,  to  make 
some  alteration  in  his  dress,  while  Mrs.  Martin  followed 
her  husband  to  the  sitting-room,  to  wait  until  he  should 
finish.  Ten — fifteen  minutes — a  half  an  hour  passed,  and 
still  she  did  not  hear  his  step  in  the  hall.  Thinking 
probably  she  had  missed  it,  she  inquired  of  Mr.  Martin 
if  he  had  heard  him  go  out. 

"  No  ;  he  is  still  in  his  room." 

She  waited  another  ten  minutes,  and  then  went  to  his 
door  and  tapped.  Recei\dng  no  reply,  and  hearing  no 
movement  inside,  she  opened  the  door  and  went  in. 


BellevieW.  155 

'*  Why,  I  thought  you  were  gone — "  she  stopped, 
startled  by  Wyndship's  attitude  and  expression.  His 
head  was  bowed  on  his  folded  arms,  resting  on  the  table, 
but  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  he  raised  it,  and  turned 
towards  her.  His  face  was  white  and  rigid,  and  his  eyes 
wild  and  unnatural.  "What  is  the  matter — are  you 
sick  ?  she  continued,  jumping  at  the  conclusion  that  he 
had  been  attacked  with  some  sudden  illness.  "What 
can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Nothing — I'm  not  sick." 

"What's  the  matter?  What  makes  you  look  so 
white?" 

He  arose  from  his  chair,  crumpling  up  a  piece  of  pa- 
per in  the  palm  of  one  hand. 

"Nothing — only  learning  a  lesson — acquiring  a  little 
wisdom,  which  I  ought  to  have  possessed  sooner."  His 
voice,  also,  had  changed  like  his  face  and  eyes,  sound- 
ing hard  and  strained. 

In  troubled  surprise,  she  looked  from  him  to  the  ta- 
ble, on  which  lay  an  open  envelope,  and  a  bundle,  done 
up  loosely  in  paper. 

"That  is  my  lesson,"  he  added,  bitterly,  pointing  to 
the  bundle. 

She  stepped  forward  to  the  table,  and  saw  that  the 
bundle  contained  flowers,  which  she  instantly  recognized 
as  being  the  bouquet  he  had  sent  toElma  that  afternoon. 
They  were  still  done  up  in  the  same  paper  that  she  had 
pinned  around  them  for  protection.  In  the  meantime,  he 
went  to  the  farthest  window,  and  raising  the  sash,  put 
his  head  out,  as  if  the  air  of  the  room  was  stifling. 

"  What  does  this  mean?"  she  exclaimed,  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"That  I  have  made  a  cursed — a  fool  of  myself." 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake." 

"  Yes,  a  very  great  mistake — on  my  part." 

"But  Ca?'/os  must  have  made  some  mistake,  or  else 
— she  was  not  at  home  ;  or " 

' '  No  ;  the  mistake  was  mine  ;  /  made  it — it  is  aU  ex- 
plained here,"  opening  the  clinched  hand  that  held 
the  paper.  "  Carlos  followed  his  instructions  only  too 
well." 

He  did  not  offer  her  the  paper,  but  closing  his  fist,  he 
turned  again  to  the  open  window.  His  words  and  sen- 
tences came  in  jerks,  and  his  chest  rose  and  fell,  as  if  he 


156  "l   WAS    MISTAKEN." 

was  suffering  from  some  difficult}^  in  breathing.  She 
noticed,  also,  that  one  hand  was  gripped  on  the  window 
frame  tighter  than  was  necessary  to  steady  himself  in 
leaning  out  of  the  window. 

^ ''  Oh,  what  is  the  matter?"  she  cried,  after  watching 
him  in  silence  until  the  suspense  became  unbearable. 
''  What  can  be  the  matter?" 

Her  persistence  seemed  to  irritate  him,  for,  turning, 
he  replied,  impatiently : 

*' My  flowers  were  not  accepted.  I  was  mistaken — 
don't  you  understand  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head,  while  tears  began  to  gather  in 
her  eyes.  He  did  not  see  this,  however,  for,  going  to 
his  trunk,  and  jerking  up  the  lid,  he  commenced  pitching 
in  his  belongings,  that  were  scattered  around  the 
room. 

"I  have  changed  my  mind,  Mrs.  Martin,  and  I  leave 
in  the  morning,  never  to  return — never  to  return  to 
Georgia  again.  Your  soil  is  too  sacred  to  be  desecrated 
again  by  my  profane  foot-steps,"  he  continued,  in  a  bit- 
ter, sarcastic  tone — "your  air  too  etherealized  for  my 
plebeian  lungs — your  lovely  climate  is  consecrated  to  the 
particular  use  of  a  more  favored  and  exalted  class  than 
that  to  which  I  belong." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  that  way — what  right  have  you  to 
talk  that  way  about  us  ?  " 

The  rebuke  in  her  words,  and  the  tears,  which  had 
now  reached  her  cheeks,  seemed  to  bring  him  to  his 
senses,  for  instantly  his  voice  and  manner  softened. 

"  I  have  no  right — none  in  the  world,  my  dear  friend, 
to  speak  to  you  in  that  manner,  and  my  only  excuse  is, 
that  my  lesson  is  too  much  for  my  brain,  all  at  once." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  all  about  it?  Maybe  I  can  help 
you — at  least,  help  you  to  bear  it." 

"  I  have  told  you  all  there  is  to  tell.  Either  my  great 
love — my  adoration,  for  it  was  nothing  else — made  me 
too  sanguine  in  judging  the  unspoken  actions  of  an- 
other— and  I  can't  believe  that  to  be  tlie  case,  or  else  I 
have  only  been  the  dupe  of  a  lovely  coquette,  as,  doubt- 
less many  a  better  man  has  been  before  me." 

"I  can't  believe  that  Elma  Owens  is  a  coquette, 
and " 

"Then,"  he  inten'upted,  bitterly,  "it  was  all  my 
mistake.     1  gave  too   free  a   rein  to   my   imagination, 


BELLEVIEW.  lo7 

making  a  most  egregious  blunder,  and  it  is  for  me  to 
suffer  the  consequences  without  nuirmuring.  But  you 
must  not  let  this  trouble  you — you  were  in  no  wise  to 
blame.  I  will  get  over  it  in 'time,  maybe,  and  possibly 
the  lesson  will  be  worth  something — will  partly  repay 
me  for  what  I  suffer  now."  During  the  utterance  of  the 
last  sentence,  he  returned  to  his  trunk-packing  in 
the  same  reckless  manner  as  before. 

"  Stop  ;  I  will  pack  your  trunk.  You  must  not  throw 
your  things  in  that  way." 

He  desisted,  and  then,  as  if  urged  on  by  an  uncon- 
trollable desire  to  be  doing  something,  commenced  tak- 
ing them  out  again.  She  pushed  him  gently  to  one  side, 
and  stooping  down,  began  arranging  the  contents  in  a 
more  methodical  manner,  while  he  returned  to  the  open 
window,  having,  apparently,  lost  all  interest  in  the  pro- 
ceedings. 

*'  It  will  not  hold  all  j'our  things,  and  there  are  some 
of  your  books  left  out,"  she  said,  after  her  deft  fingers 
had  systematically  filled  both  body  and  tray. 

''  It  does  not  matter — I  don't  know  that  I  will  ever 
need  them  again.  If  I  do,  they  can  be  forwarded  by 
express." 

*'  You  do  not  mean  that  you  will  never  come  back  to 
see  us  ?  A  little  later,  when  your  troubles  will  not  be  so 
heavy,  you  will  come  ?  Surely,  if  you  knew  how  warm 
a  place  you  hold  in  both  of  our  affections,  you  would  not 
refuse  us  that  ?  " 

This  appeal,  and  the  exhibition  of  the  sincerest  sor- 
row and  sympathy  on  her  part,  again  brought  him  to 
his  natural  self.  Coming  forward,  and  taking  her  hand 
in  both  of  his,  he  said  : 

''  My  dear  friend,  I'm  not  at  all  myself  to-night,  and 
scarcely  know  what  I  have  said  or  done.  If  I  have  seemed 
rude  and  unkind,  it  was  not  for  want  of  gratitude,  or  of 
appreciation  of  your  never-ending  kindness — that  will 
never  be  forgotten  so  long  as  life  lasts.  I  would  be  a 
brute,  indeed,  should  I  forget  the  trouble  you  have 
taken  to  add  to  my  comfort  and  happiness,  and  rest  as- 
sured, that  if  the  time  should  ever  come  when  I  can 
trust  myself  back  at  Somerville,  and  circumstances 
should  permit  my  coming,  it  will  be  to  this  house  that 
my  foot-steps  are  first  directed.  You  have  come  as 
near  filling  my  mother's  place  as   any  woman   possibly 


158  "l   WAS   MISTAKEN.'* 

could,  and  your  place  in  my  heart  will  always  be  close 
to  hers.  But  if  I  ever  return  to  Somerville,  my  feelings 
will  have  to  change  from  what  they  are  to-night,  more 
than  I  think  is  possible.  To  staj^  here  now,  even  if  my 
mother  was  perfectly  well,  would  drive  me  crazy — it 
would — "  he  stopped,  as  if  words  were  too  weak  to  ex- 
press what  he  felt. 

"  Are  you  certain  that  you  are  not  acting  too  hast- 
ily." 

"I  har^e  acted  too  hastily,  but  not  now." 

"  How  were  those  brought  back  ?  "  she  asked,  pointing 
to  the  flowers. 

''I  do  not  know.  I  found  them  here  on  coming  in 
from  supper." 

"Maybe  the  occurrence  can  be  explained,  and  it  will 
turn  out  different  from  what  yow  think,"  she  said  eager- 
ly, catching  at  the  straw.  It  was  hard  for  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin to  give  up  the  idea  that  some  error  or  blunder  of  the 
servants  was  causing  the  trouble.  With  a  ghastly  smile 
— if  such  a  contortion  of  the  features  could  be  called  a 
smile — he  opened  the  hand  containing  the  piece  of 
crumpled  paper. 

*'  You  forget  this." 

*' Is  that  a  note  from — from  Elm  a,  and  did  it  come 
back  with  the  flowers  ?  " 

''  It  is,  and  it  was  with  the  flowers.  It  is  useless  to 
talk  about  it,"  he  added,  as  if  weary  of  the  subject, 
"  all  is  explained." 

She  looked  at  the  paper  wistfully,  but  he  did  not  offer 
it  to  be  read,  and  delicacy  forbade  her  asking,  and, 
after  some  efforts  at  consolation,  which  seemed  to  fall 
on  ears  that  were  deaf,  she  reluctantly  withdrew.  As  a 
parting  injunction,  she  urged  him  to  go  to  bed,  and  try 
to  get  some  sleep,  but  this  advice,  also,  was  without 
effect. 

Mrs.  Martin  was  not  by  any  means  satisfied,  and, 
on  leaving  the  room,  immediately  hunted  up  Carlos. 

"  What  did  Miss  Elma  say  when  you  gave  her  those 
flowers  this  evening?  " 

"  I  didn't  see  Miss  Elma.      She  warn't  at  home." 

"  What  did  you  do  with  them,  then  ?  " 

"Massa  Leon  tuk  'em.     He  sed  he'd  'tend  to  'em." 

"  How  came  he  to  take  the  bouquet?" 

"  He's  de  only  one  I  seed.     He  come  to  de  do'   when 


BELLEVIEW.  l'}9 

I  knoct,  and  seel  he'd  take  charge  ob  'em  till  Miss  Elma 
come  home." 

''  You  didn't  bring  them  back, then?" 

''  No,  ma'am,"  he  answered,  stretching  his  eyes  in  as- 
tonishment.    "  I  neber  seed  him  'em  no  more." 

''  That  will  do.  Tell  Celia  I  want  her  to  come  to  my 
room." 

Mr.  Martin  looked  up  from  his  paper  inquiringly, 
when  his  wife  returned  to  her  customary  seat  by  the  sit- 
ting-room fire. 

*'  Has  Wyndship  given  up  his  call?  " 

*'  I  believe  so." 

*'  Why  does  he  not  come  in  and  sit  with  us  until  bed- 
time, then?" 

"I  advised  him  to  go  to  bed,"  she  answered  eva- 
sively. 

Mr.  Martin  perceived  the  troubled  look  on  his  wife's 
face,  and  at  once  connected  it  with  their  boarder's  se- 
clusion, and  also  with  his  relinquishment  of  the  visit  to 
Belleview. 

'^  Something  is  the  matter,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's 
scrutiny  of  his  companion's  countenance.  "  What  is 
it?" 

"That  is  just  what  I  would  like  to  know." 

Just  then,  Celia,  who  was  the  house-girl,  opened  the 
door. 

"  Did  you  put  that  bouquet  and  note  in  Mr.  Wynd- 
ship's  room  this  evening  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

*'  Where  did  they  come  from?" 

"  I  doesn't  know  ma'am.  A  nigger  man  fotched  'em 
when  3^'alls  war  at  de  grave-yard." 

"  Whose  negro  man  was  he?" 

"  I  doesn't  know.     He's  er  stranger  ter  me.** 
.   "  Does  he  belong  to  Colonel  Gachet,  you  think?  " 

"  No'm  ;  T  kno's  all  de  Coloners  niggers,  'n'  I'm  sho' 
it  warn't  none  er  his." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  'est  said  dey  was  fm*  de  teacher  gemman — dat 
was  all." 

"  Didn't  he  say  who  sent  them?" 

"  No'm." 

"How  did  he  come? — was  he  walking,  riding,  or 
how?" 


160  "l    WAS    MISTAKEN." 

*'  He  was  een  er  waggin,  ma'am.  He  left  it  standin'  at 
de  gate,  'n'  got  out  'u'  came  to  de  do' ." 

"Did  you  notice  which  way  he  went?" 

"  He  dmv  off  down  tru  town,  but  I  never  wait  ter 
see  whar  he  went." 

Mrs.  Martin  was  rather  nonplussed — her  investigation 
so  far  only  tended  to  make  the  mystery  more  obscure. 
Convinced  that  Celia  was  telling  the  tiath,  she  bade  her 
withdraw,  after  a  moment's  thought. 

"  Goodness  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Martin,  who  had  been  a 
silent  listener.     "  What  does  all  this  mean,  Ellen  ?  " 

In  reply,  she  told  him  what  had  transpu'ed  between 
Elma  and  Wyndship,  so  far  as  she  knew,  including  the 
sending  and  return  of  the  flowers,  and  how  much  the 
young  man  seemed  to  suffer  by  the  rebuff.  In  conclu- 
sion, she  asked  his  opinion  of  the  matter. 

"  Did  you  see  the  note  she  sent  back  with  the  bou- 
quet?" 

"No." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  its  contents?  " 

"No  ;  he  did  not  tell  me,  nor  did  he  offer  to  let  mu 
read  it.     He  only  said  that  '  all  was  explained.' " 

"  His  conclusion,  then,  seems  to  be  the  only  plausible 
solution  of  the  affair.  He  either  made  a  most  stupen- 
dous blunder  in  inteipreting  the  manner  in  which  she  re- 
ceived his  proposal,  or  else  she  could  not  resist  the  temp- 
tation to  flirt  a  little  at  his  expense." 

"  Neither  of  those  theories  is  the  least  bit  plausible 
to  my  mind." 

"  From  what  I  know  of  his  character,"  continued  Mr. 
Martin,  disregarding  his  wife's  remark,  "  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  could  have  made  such  a  blunder,  consequently, 
she  must  have  been  throwing  dust  in  his  eyes." 

"  Please,  ma'am,"  interrupted  Carlos,  opening  the 
door,  "  dar  was  one  thing  I  think,  may  by,  I  orter  tell 
yer." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Massa  Leon  looked  like — ^like  he'd  been  drinkin' — 
'n'  torkcd  sorter — sorter  strange  like." 

"  What  did  he  say  ? — what  were  the  very  words  he 
used — as  near  as  you  can  remember  them  ?  " 

"  He  said — beg  pardon.  Miss  Ellen,  but  he  said  he'd 
*  tek  kear  uv  de  damn'd  ting.'  '* 


BELLEVIEW.  161 

*'  That  will  do,  Carlos — I  don't  want  to  hear  any 
more." 

Mrs.  Martin's  knitting  dropped  from  her  fingers,  and 
she  went  off  into  a  brown  study  ;  that  is,  if  women  who 
are  governed  by  intuition,  and  not  by  judgment,  ever 
indulge  in  such  a  moodo  To  her,  there  was  some  mys- 
tery behind  the  curtain  to  be  fathomed.  She  could  not 
yet  believe  that  she  had  been  so  badly  deceived  in  El- 
ma's  character,  as  her  husband's  suggestion  implied. 
Her  observations  had  led  her  to  think  that  the  girl  had 
been  interested  in  Wyndship  ;  but  even  if  such  had  not 
been  the  case,  she  felt  assured  that  the  fact  would  have 
been  made  known  to  him  in  the  least  objectionable 
manner — that  the  flowers  would  have  been  retained,  any- 
how, and  that  she  would  have  written  the  sender  a  kind 
and  friendly  note,  correcting  the  error  into  which  he  had 
fallen.  Wyndship' s  manner  did  not  indicate  that  her 
note  was  of  this  character,  but  gave  evidence  of  other 
feelings  than  those  that  should  have  been  excited  by  a 
kindly  rejection.  Then  there  was  the  way  by  which  they 
were  returned — a  mystery  in  itself,  for  why  should  she 
have  gone  out  of  the  way  to  secure  the  services  of  a 
strange  negro  to  act  as  messenger,  when  there  were  al- 
ways more  servants  about  Belleview  than  duties  for 
them  to  perform  ?  Carlos  saw  no  one  but  Leon — where 
were  the  remainder  of  the  household  at  the  time  ?  It 
could  not  have  been  more  than  an  hour  or  two  later 
when  the  strange  negro  handed  the  flowers  back  to 
Celia.  ''  Could  it  be  possible  that  Leon  Gachet  returned 
them,  and  wrote  that  note  himself?"  Unconsciously, 
the  question  was  uttered  aloud. 

''If  he  did,  he  signed  his  own  name  to  the  note," 
said  Mr.  Martin,  in  answer.  ''His  words,  as  reported 
by  Carlos,  are  perfectly  natural,  and  it  is  in  keeping 
with  his  character  to  have  done  such  an  act,  but  he 
would  have  done  it  boldly,  assuming  all  responsibil- 
ity." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BmS.  MARTIN  SEES  THE  NOTE. 

Mrs.  Martin's  parting  injunction,  to  "go  to  bed, 
and  get  some  sleep,"  was  thrown  away  on  Wyndship. 
Scarcely  Imd  she  left  the  room,  when  the  self-control  he 


162  IVIRS.    MARTIN   SEES   THE   NOTE. 

had  been  trying  to  maintain,  broke  down,  and  he  com- 
menced pacing  restlessly  back  and  forth  in  the  narrow 
confines  of  his  room.  This  he  kept  up  for  some  time — 
until  the  excess  of  his  passion  had  been  worked  off — 
then,  drawing  a  chair  to  the  open  window,  he  sat  down, 
unmindful  of  the  chilly  night  air.  The  reversal  had 
been  sudden  and  great — from  the  very  pinnacle  of  hap- 
piness he  had  fallen  into  the  deepest  and  darkest  pit  of 
despair.  Onl}^  a  few  days  before,  the  greatest  of  all  bless- 
ings, as  he  thought,  was  followed  by  unexpected  good 
fortune  ;  and  now,  the  bitterest  of  disappointments  was 
treading  on  the  heels  of  a  trouble,  scarcely  supportable 
itself.  In  those  few  days  he  had  tasted  the  elixir  of 
love,  had  reveled  in  the  paradise  of  mortals ;  but  the 
elixir  had  changed  to  the  poisonous  knowledge  of  evil, 
and  henceforth  he  must  tread  his  way  through  the  thorns 
and  thistles  of  a  hopeless  life.  There  were  no  half-way 
measures  in  this  experience — as  his  joy  had  been  with- 
out alloy,  so  his  misery  was  now  without  the  least  pros- 
pect of  redemption — and  the  midnight  of  his  latter  state 
only  showed  deeper  gloom,  in  comparison  with  the  tran- 
scendant  brightness  of  the  former.  Other  men,  with 
different  temperaments,  would  have  found  relief  in  an- 
ger, or  consolation  through  the  self-assurance,  that  "the 
grapes  were  sour,"  but  this  was  not  possible  with  him  ; 
he  had  made  an  idol  of  a  woman,  had  endowed  her  with 
divinity,  enthroned  her  as  the  goddess  of  his  heart,  and 
the  blow  which  shivered  this  idol  into  fragments,  left  a 
wound  which  no  such  ointments  could  ever  heal.  His 
love  was  all  sincerity — he  had  held  no  forces  in  reserve, 
had  kept  open  no  lines  of  retreat — on  this  venture  for 
happiness,  he  had  staked  everything ;  for,  if  he  won, 
nothing  was  left  to  be  desired ;  and  if  he  lost,  there  was 
nothing  more  to  try  for. 

Even  had  he  been  like  other  men,  cautious,  politic, 
wise  in  deceit ;  dividing  his  affections,  by  bestowing 
half  on  himself,  and  only  risking  half  in  the  enterprise ; 
still,  would  not  these  two  troubles  have  tried  his  powers 
of  endurance  to  the  utmost?  Would  not  the  loss,  in 
one  night,  of  both  a  mother  and  a  lover — for  the 
new-born  hopes  of  the  former  had  been  drowned 
in  despair  at  the  loss  of  the  latter — have  over- 
whelmed even  the  most  selfish  of  men?  Have  bowed 
the  coolest  head,  the  hardest  heart,  in  hopeless  grief? 


BKLLEVIEW.  103" 

In  the  '^ee  hours  of  the  iiiornhig  he  arose  from  his 
seat,  pale,  exhausted,  and  shivering  with  cokl,  to  re- 
sume his  preparations  for  departure.  Catching  sight  of 
the  fateful  flowers,  still  Ij'ing  on  the  table,  he  took  them 
up,  and  started  to  throw  them  out  of  the  window,  but  a 
sudden  thought  stayed  his  hand. 

''What  a  fit  emblem,"  he  muttered,  "of  my  short- 
lived happiness,  so  fair  and  fragrant  a  few  short  hours 
ago,  and  now  faded  and  dead  beyond  all  hopes  of  res- 
urrection. AVill  it  not  also  be  a  fit  reminder  of  my 
foU}^ — a  suitable  representative  of  dearly-bought  wis- 
dom? Yes:  I'll  keep  it  as  a  talisman,  to  guard  me 
from  another  such  a  blunder — one  glance  at  its  with- 
ered beauty  will  prevent  me  from  ever  again  placing 
faith  in  woman.  But  why  should  I,  when  there  is  no 
possible  chance  of  my  ever  loving,  of  my  ever  believing 
— of  my  ever  being  such  a  fool  again?"  Nevertheless, 
he  threw  them  into  the  tray  of  his  trunk,  and  locked  it, 
ready  for  the  journey,  Mrs,  Martin  had  left  little  else 
for  him  to  do,  so  closing  the  window,  he  lay  down, 
wrapping  the  bed-clothing  around  him,  trying,  by  that 
means,  to  bring  a  little  warmth  into  his  shivering 
and  passion-exhausted  body. 

His  haggard  appearance  next  morning,  showed  very 
plainly  how  he  had  spent  the  night,  and  excited  Mrs. 
Martin's  alarm. 

"  You  are  not  well,"  she  said — "  you  are  in  no  con- 
dition to  travel,  and  must  not  start  to-day." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am — I'm  quite  well." 
"I  know  better  than   that — you   won't   hold  out   to 
ofet  home.     You  will  oet  down  sick   somewhere   on  the 
road,  among  strangers,  so  you  had  better  stay  here." 

Her  expostulations,  however,  had  no  more  effect  on 
his  determination  than  the  tempting  breakfast  she  had 
ordered  before  daylight,  had  upon  his  appetite.  Drink- 
ing a  few  mouthfuls  of  coffee,  he  arose  to  finish  his 
preparations  for  departure.  Mrso  Martin's  regret  and 
uneasiness  did  not  make  her  forget  a  certain  resolution 
that  she  had  formed,  and  that  was  to  see  the  note  he  had 
received  with  the  return  of  the  flowers.  She  still  be- 
lieved that  something  was  wrong,  and  thought,  prob- 
ably, if  she  had  an  opportunity  to  examine  the  docu- 
ment, that  she  might  find  a  clew.  As  there  was  no 
time  to  lose,  and  no  prospect  of  her  wish   being  grati- 


1G4  Mr.s.  MAr.TiN  sees  the  note. 

fied  in  any  other  way,  she  followed  him  ont  of  the  room, 
and  asked  to  see  it. 

"  It  is  in  my  trunk,"  he  answered  ;  and  then  added, 
hesitatingly,  "  I  will  get  it  out  for  you  before  I   leave." 

In  compliance  with  this  promise,  when  he  was  bidding 
her  good-bye,  he  handed  her  an  unsealed  and  undirected 
envelope,  saying :  "  Yc  i  can  read  it  when  I'm  gone 
— and  then  destroy  it." 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  the  buggy  had  carried  him 
out  of  sight,  she  returned  to  her  room,  and  after  wiping 
her  eyes,  opened  and  read : 

"  Mr.  "VVyndship  : 

I  return  your  flowers,  as,  after  readino:  j^our  note,  their 
retention,  on  my  part,  would  be  in  equally  as  bad  taste  as  I 
conceive  the  sending  to  have  been  on  yours.  I  reijret  that  the 
friendly  attention,  which  I,  in  conjunction  with  others  of  the 
family,  thought  incumbent  on  us  to  show  a  stranger  in  your 
position,  has  been  so  entirely  misconstrued.  Amazement  at 
first,  and  an  interruption  afterwards,  prevented  me,  the  other 
evening,  from  inflicting  the  rebuke  your  presumption  mer- 
ited. 

Respectfully, 

Elma  Owkxs." 

Surprise,  pain,  and  anger,  in  quick  succession,  fol- 
lowed each  other  over  Mrs.  Martin's  countenance,  as 
she  read  the  foregoing,  and,  as  the  latter  feeling  gained 
the  ascendancy,  the  crumpled  paper  rattled  in  her  lin- 
gers. She  perceived  at  the  first  giauce  that  it  was  in  a 
lady's  hand-writing — Elma's,  she  decided — although  the 
characters  were  not  so  gi-aceful  as  that  young  lady's 
chirography  usually  appeared.  That  difference,  how- 
ever, could  have  been  caused,  she  thought,  by  hurry  or 
excitement. 

*' Well,  I  never!"  she  ejaculated  to  herself — "I 
never  would  have  believed  it  of  her.  Poor  fellow,"  she 
continued,  after  a  moment's  angiy  silence,  ''  I  can  im- 
agine what  you  have,  and  are  sulTeriug.  Oh,  how  lit- 
tle and  mean  !  There  is  one  consolation,  however,  and 
that  is,  that  she  is  in  no  wise  worthy  of  his  love,  and — 
he  now  knows  it."  She  read  the  note  over  a  second 
time,  and  then,  with  a  very  n-d  face  and  flashing  eyes, 
she  threw  it  towards  the  fire.  Never  before,  probalDly, 
had  her  gentle  bosom  contained  so  much  wrath,  or  such 
a  contemptible  opinion  of  a  human   being,  as   she   that 


BELLEVIE^.  165 

moment  felt  for  one  whom  she  had  hitherto  regarded 
with  special  favoritism.  She  had  had  such  a  high  opin- 
ion of  Elma's  character — of  her  gentleness,  her  mod- 
est}^  and  of  her  freedom  from  everything  like  coquetry — 
believing  her  to  be  far  above  anything  that  was  little 
and  despisable.  She  had  always  regarded  her  as  being 
as  near  perfect  as  girls  ever  became,  and  here  she  had 
played  with  an  honest  man's  love  as  if  it  was  as  worth- 
less as  a. glass  jewel,  and  had  written  to  him  in  just  such 
language  as  should  call  the  blush  of  shame  to  the  cheek 
of  the  most  brazen  flirt.  How  could  she  have  been  so  badly 
mistaken?  Was  no  confidence  to  be  placed  in  any? 
Were  all  alike — all  vain,  frivolous,  and  insolent — care- 
less of  the  misery  they  inflicted  on  others,  if  only  they 
could  gratify  their  love  of  adulation,  and  exhibit  a  little 
idiotic  smartness?  If  Elma  Owens  possessed  these 
faults,  what  girl  of  her  acquaintance  could  be  free  ?  If 
such  a  false  and  bigoted  pride  controlled  her,  did  it  not 
also  control  all  of  her  class,  verifying  the  accusations 
thrown  at  them  by  the  Northern  people  ?  And  then,  too, 
she  had  praised  this  girl  so  highly  to  Wyndship  ;  had 
described  her  as  possessing  such  noble  qualities — aye, 
had  encouraged  his  love,  and  his  hopes,  only  to  bring 
upon  him  the  cruelest  of  blows.  It  was  all  partly  her 
own  work,  for,  had  she  not  given  him  the  advice  she 
did,  he,  obeying  the  promptings  of  his  more  correct  judg- 
ment, would  never  have  placed  himself  at  her  mercy. 
It  was  too  much.  Under  the  influence  of  these  conflict- 
ing emotions — remorse  for  her  own  mistake,  pity  for 
Wyndship,  and  outraged  affection  for  Elma — the  angry 
light  in  her  eyes  was  drowned  in  tears,  and  the  agitated 
face  hid  itself  in  folded  arms,  resting  on  the  work-table 
at  her  side. 

After  a  little  while  she  became  more  composed,  and 
drying  her  eyes,  started  up  to  perform  her  customary 
household  duties.  As  she  did  so,  she  caught  sight  of 
the  obnoxious  note,  lying  on  the  hearth,  where  it  had 
fallen,  just  short  of  the  fire.  With  a  contemptuous  mo- 
tion of  her  foot,  she  started  to  kick  it  among  the  coals, 
when  a  sudden  thought  checked  the  motion.  Stooping 
down,  she  picked  it  up,  carefully  smoothed  out  the 
creases,  restored  it  to  the  envelope,  and  then  dropped 
it  into  the  pocket  of  her  dress.  Even  as  good  a  woman 
as  Mrs.  Martin  can,  under  some  circumstances,  relish  a 


166  ^mS.    MARTIN    SEES   THE    NOTE. 

little  revenge,  and  just  at  that  moment,  she  could  im- 
agine no  greater  enjoyment,  than  to  some  day  show  that 
note  to  its  author,  with  a  hint  of  her  own  opinion  of 
one  who  could  write  it. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Colonel 
Gachet  returned  home  from  Milledgeville,  in  high  spirits 
over  the  results  of  the  convention.  His  fondest  dreams 
were,  as  he  thought,  at  the  point  of  being  realized,  and 
that  Southern  Republic,  which  of  late  had  become  the 
subject  of  his  political  desires — ^the  imaginary  object  of 
his  patriotic  devotion — was  about  to  be  established  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  an  astonished  and  admiring  world.  He 
fully  believed  that  it  would  be  the  model  government, 
perfect  in  its  mechanism,  free  from  all  internal  dissen- 
sions, and  respected  for  the  boldness  of  its  people,  and 
for  its  high  conception  of  political  liberty.  His  san- 
guine anticipations  were  not  marred  by  any  spectre  of 
coming  evil ;  not  even  did  Burns's  inimitable  lines  : 

*'  The  best  laid  plans  of  mice  and  man, 
Gang  aft  a-gley," 

recur  to  his  memory  to  cause  any  uneasiness  about  the 
future.  The  Northern  States,  he  argued,  with 
such  large  manufacturing  and  commercial  interest, 
and  with  so  much  division  amongst  its  citizens,  would 
not  dare  to  precipitate  a  war.  The  dominant  party 
would  be  powerless,  finding  their  recent  victory  not  only 
barren,  but  suicidal  in  its  effect  on  themselves  ;  for 
the  people,  even  up  there,  would  ascribe  the  rupture  to 
the  hateful  and  pernicious  doctrines  they  taught,  and,  at 
the  next  election,  if  not  sooner,  would  relegate  their 
fanatical  leaders  to  merited  obscurity.  The  Colonel's 
own  library  could  have  taught  him  that  some  of  the 
most  desperate  struggles  recorded  in  history  were  made 
by  a  commercial  and  manufacturing  people,  such  as 
that  sustained  by  the  burghers  of  Flanders  against  their 
count,  aided  by  the  French,  in  the  fourteenth  century  ; 
and  later,  that  carried  on  by  the  Netherlands  against 
Louis  XIV.  But  others  in  the  South,  with  cooler  heads 
than  his,  were  deceived  by  just  such  arguments. 

At  the  supper-table,  amidst  his  remarks  about  the 
^'heroic  stand  the  Southern  States  were  assuming,"  he 
found  time  to  say : 


BELLE  VIEW.  167 

"'  What  is  this  about  AYynclship's  going  back  North?" 

"  Going  North !  "  ejaculated  his  wife  and  daughter,  in 
the  same  breath.  His  two  other  auditors  remained  silent, 
but  their  countenances  did  not  exhibit  altogether  total 
indifference  to  the  news. 

"Yes.  I  met  him  in  Milton  to-day,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  was  on  his  way  North.  That  he  had  received  a 
letter  from  his  sister,  telling  him  that  his  mother  was 
very  sick — thought  to  be  dying." 

''  This  is  the  first  I  have  heard  about  it,"  said  his 
wife,  adding,  in  a  sympathetic  tone,  "  I  am  very  sorry 
to  hear  of  his  misfortune." 

"  I  asked  him,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "if  he  in- 
tended returning,  and  he  told  me  he  did  not." 

"  llis  departure  must  have  been  very  sudden,"  re- 
marked Mollie,  glancing  furtively  at  Elma,  "  or  else  he 
would  have  come  out  to  tell  us  good-bye." 

"  He  did  not  seem  inclined  to  talk,  and  consequently 
I  did  not  ask  him  many  questions.  I  wonder,"  he 
added,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "if  secession  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  his  leaving,  or  with  his  resolution  not  to 
return  ?  " 

"Possibly  it  had,"  remarked  his  son,  in  a  tone  that 
was  intended  to  mean  indifference. 

"  I  had  hoped  that  such  was  not  the  case  ;  that  ho 
was  too  fair-minded  a  man,  too  just  in  his  conceptions 
of  right  and  wrong,  to  forsake  us  for  adopting  the  only 
honorable  course  left  for  the  South  to  pursue."  AYith 
the  Colonel,  one  idea  was  always  dominant  for  the  time, 
and  he  could  scarcely  realize  that  any  other  considera- 
tions, at  present,  could  influence  a  person's  actions, 
save  those  of  a  political  nature. 

Elma's  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak,  but  closed  again  in 
silence.  A  close  observer  might  have  noticed  that  she 
had  twice  buttered  the  same  waffle,  and  that  she  was 
stirring  her  tea  of  tener  than  Mollie's  generosity  in  the 
way  of  sugar  ever  made  necessary.  A  better  light 
might  have  also  shown  that  the  color  of  her  face  had 
changed  more  than  once  since  the  conversation  began. 
In  silence  she  fidgeted  with  the  contents  of  her  plate  long 
enough  to  avoid  exciting  suspicion,  and  then  arose  and 
went  up  to  her  room.  Possibly  Mollie  was  the  only 
close  observer — at  least,  Leon  seemed  to  be  engaged  in 
affecting  a  mask  of  indifference  himself ;  in  suppressing 


168  MRS.    MARTIN   MAKES   A   DISCOVERY. 

a  self -consciousness  in  his   manner,  and   of  veiling   the 
triumphant  sparkle  in  his  black  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MRS.  MARTIN  BIAKES  A  DISCOVERY. 

*' You  ought  to  have  seen  them  before  I  cut  all  the 
blooms  off  to  decorate  little  Lizzie  Ballou's  coffin.  I 
never  had  my  hot-house  plants  to  do  so  well  as  they 
have  done  this  winter." 

The  speaker  was  Mrs.  Martin,  and  the  person  she  was 
addressing  was  Mollie  Gachet.  Several  days  had  passed 
since  Wyndship's  departure,  and  that  note  still  remained 
in  the  drawer  of  her  work-table.  Although  the  first 
glance  at  the  hand-writing  had  convinced  her  of  its 
genuineness,  a  conviction  which  had  been  strengthened 
by  subsequent  consideration  of  the  circumstances,  yet 
she  had  not  put  her  contemplated  revenge  into  execu- 
tion. This  delay  was  owing  to  two  causes  :  first,  no  op- 
portunity had  voluntarily  offered  itself ;  and  secondly, 
ever  since  that  morning,  there  had  been  steadily  grow- 
ing in  her  heart,  a  strong  feeling  of  reluctance  to  a 
meeting  with  Elma.  When  she  thought  of  the  affection 
she  once  felt  for  this  girl,  how  much  she  liked  and  ad- 
mired her  supposed  character,  and  how  bitterly  she  had 
been  disappointed,  a  strong  repulsion  to  the  necessary 
interview,  which  she  could  not  control,  would  overcome 
the  desire  for  revenge.  Consequently,  she  did  not  go 
to  Belieview  in  search  of  the  opportunity,  as  she  first 
intended.  Influenced  by  this  feeling,  when  she  met 
Elma  at  church,  on  the  Sunday  that  had  intervened,  she 
did  not  stop  for  the  customary  little  chat  after  services 
vrere  over,  but  merely  bov/ed  and  passed  on.  Now  she 
had  not  abandoned  the  resolution  formed  on  the  impulse 
of  the  moment,  altogether,  but  was  only  waiting  until 
her  OAvn  heart  had  recovered,  somewhat,  from  its  sore- 
ness. 

Mollie  had  called  on  Mrs.  Martin,  partly  because  she 
and  Elma  had  always  been  in  the  habit  of  visiting  there 
quite  frequently  ;  and — well,  partly  because  she  had  her 
suspicions,  and  was  curious   to  learn  the  facts  about 


BELLEVIEW.  160 

Wyndship's  sudden  departure.  The  two  girls  generally 
made  their  calls  together,  but  this  time,  Elma  declined 
to  come,  giving  no  reason  other  than  she  did  not  feel 
like  visiting.  Most  of  the  afternoon  had  passed,  and 
Mollie  had  learnt  nothing  more  than  she  already  knew. 
In  the  first  place,  she  was  too  innocent  and  frank  her- 
self to  succeed  as  a  cross-examiner ;  and  secondly,  her 
coming  alone  only  tended  to  confirm  Mrs.  Martin's  be- 
lief in  the  other's  guilt,  and  she  resolved  to  reveal  noth- 
ing concerning  AYyndship.  If  Elma  was  not  satisfied 
with  her  triumph  she  thought,  and  had  sent  her  friend 
to  find  out  how  her  victim  took  his  "  rebuke,"  she  should 
be  disappointed  to  that  extent,  at  least. 

When  one  lady  called  upon  another  in  ante-bellum 
Georgia,  it  was  usually  part  of  the  entertainment  for  the 
hostess  to  take  her  visitor  out  to  view  her  flowers.  In 
the  spring  and  summer  they  went  to  the  open  yard,  and 
in  the  winter  to  the  hot-house,  or  pit.  It  was  a  subject 
that  was  supposed  to  interest  every  one,  for  nearly 
every  one  possessed,  or  assumed  to  possess,  a  fondness 
for  nature's  jewels.  In  compliance  Avith  this  custom, 
the  two  had  gone  out  to  Mrs.  Ma-rtin's  little  hot-house, 
and  Mollie  had  been  expressing  her  admiration  over  the 
treasures  it  contained. 

"Oh!  I  know  they  must  have  been  lovely.  Mrs. 
Ballon  was  telling  mother,  the  other  day,  how  generous 
3^ou  were  with  your  flowers." 

''  Why  didn't  you  come  out  to  the  burial?  " 

"  We  were  not  at  home.  We  did  not  hear  of  it  until 
we  got  back  that  night.  Mother  hated  our  being  ab- 
sent, and  if  she  had  known  about  the  burial,  would  have 
put  off  our  visit  to  Gay's  Hill." 

"Did  you  go  to  Gay's  Hill  that  day?" 

"Yes.  We  had  been  promising  Judge  and  Mrs. 
Brown  to  spend  a  day  with  them  for  some  time.  The 
weather  that  week  was  so  fine,  and  we  were  so  lonesome 
at  Belleview — Father  and  Brother  both  being  gone — 
that  we  went  up  soon  in  the  morning,  and  stayed  all 
day." 

"  Well ;  if  I  had  known  you  had  seen  Mrs.  Brown's 
flowers  lately,  I  wouldn't  have  shown  you  mine — hers,  I 
know,  are  so  much  finer." 

"  Oh,  no,  they  are  riot — no  one  can  beat  you,  Mrs. 


170  MRS.    MARTIN    MAKES    A    DISCOVERY. 

Martin.  That  new  oleander  of  yours,  is,  I  know,  the 
most  beautiful  thing  in  all  creation." 

Mrs.  Martin  smiled,  i^artly  on  account  of  her  young 
visitor's  enthusiasm,  and  partly  on  account  of  the  com- 
pliment to  her  king  of  flowers. 

"Mrs.  Brown,"  continued  MoUie,  "  has  a  new  variety 
of  geraniums  that  I  never  saw  before.  She  gave  me 
some  cuttings,  but  they  didn't  live." 

"  What  was  the  matter?  They  are  generally  very 
easy  to  propagate." 

"  Father  says  I  didn't  manage  them  right.  I  went 
and  set  them  out  myself,  as  soon  as  we  got  home,  al- 
though it  was  then  nearly  dark." 

Mrs.  ISIartin  sat  down  suddenly  on  an  unoccupied 
bench,  giving  utterance  to  something  like  a  gasp.  If 
Elma  went  with  Mollie  and  her  mother  to  Gay's  Hill, 
and  did  not  get  back  home  until  nearly  dark,  how  could 
she  have  written  that  note  ? 

''Are  3^ou  sick,  Mrs.  Martin?  I'm  afraid  I  am  keep- 
ing you  from  the  fire  too  long." 

"Oh,  no — there  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me.  What 
day  did  you  go  to  Judge  Brown's?  " 

The  Thursday  that  Lizzie  Ballon  y\  as  buried — the  day 
before  Father  got  home,  and — before  Mr.  Wyndship 
left." 

"  Where  was  Elma  that  day  ?  " 

"  Why,  she  went  with  us." 

"  What  time  did  she  come  back?  " 

"  She  came  back  with  us,  of  course,"  answered  Mol- 
lie, with  increasing  surprise.  "We  all  went  in  the 
carriage,  and  there  was  no  other  way  for  her  to  get 
back.  Elma  seemed  to  enjoy  the  visit  very  much,  but 
I  tell  her  that  the  trip  or  the  Judge's  muscadine  wine, 
one  must  have  made  her  sick,  as  she  has  had  the  '  sol- 
emncholy'  ever  since." 

"  You  must  have  left  Belleview  deserted  all  day?" 

"  Entirely  so.  Mother  gave  Minty  and  the  cook  a 
holiday,  Tony  di-ove  the  carriage,  and  we  took  Lina 
w^ith  us.  It  seemed  very  strange  for  no  one  to  have 
been  about  the  house  for  a  whole  day — something  that 
does  not  often  happen — well.  Brother  got  home  some  time 
in  the  afternoon.  He  was  sick,  and  had  gone  to  bed 
when  we  got  back."  The  light  cheerful  tone  became 
very  serious,  and  a  blush  colored  her  face,  when  she 


BELLEVIEW.  171 

spoke  of  her  brother's  sickness.  Mrs.  Martin  under- 
stood as  well,  or  better,  probably,  than  she  did,  that  his 
sickness  meant  intoxication.  Rising  to  her  feet,  the 
latter  turned  impulsively,  and^broke  off  the  solitary  bloom 
on  her  royal  oleander. 

"Oh!  what  are  you  doing?"  cried  Mollie,  in  dis- 
may. 

''  I  am  pulling  this  for  you,  my  dear." 

"  But  it  is  the  only  one  you  have?" 

"  And  what  of  that?  I  wouldn't  know  where  to  find 
a  sweeter  maiden  on  whom  to  bestow  my  king,"  she 
answered,  with  an  affectionate  laugh. 

Mollie  thanlved  her  for  the  flower,  and  as  it  was  grow- 
ing late,  soon  afterwards  made  her  adieus. 

"  Tell  Elma  she  must  come  to  see  me  soon.  I  want 
to  see  her  on  a  special  matter — that  she  must  come  to- 
morrow." 

The  late  repulsion  had  suddenly  all  vanished,  and 
with  it  went  the  intention  and  desire  for  revenge.  For 
a  different  reason,  Mrs.  Martin  was  now  more  anxious 
than  ever  to  show  Elma  that  note,  and  could  hardly 
endure  the  thought  of  having  to  wait  until  the  next  day. 
So  much  did  the  matter  occupy  her  thoughts,  that  she 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  mention  it  to  her  hus- 
band that  night,  when  they  were  sitting  around  the 
fire. 

'*  Haven't  you  quit  thinking  about  that  yet?  " 

"No,  I  have  not." 

"  Is  it  the  slight  to  Wyndship,  or  .to  your  flowers, 
that  is  hurting  you  the  most?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  ignoring  his  last  question,  "  I 
haven't  quit  thinking  about  it  yet,  and  that  is  not  all ;  I 
have  not  quit  finding  out  about  it,  either." 

"  Well,  what  have  j^ou  found  out?" 

"I  have  found  out  that  Elma  was  not  at  home  that 
evening  until  nearly  dark." 

"  Phew!  How  do  you  know  that?"  he  asked,  with 
sudden  interest. 

"Mollie  told  me  so  this  evening.  She,  with  her 
mother  and  Elma,  went  to  Gay's  Hill  that  day,  and  did 
not  retm-n  until  after  sunset." 

"  And  the  bouquet  was  returned  before  sunset?  " 

"  Yes." 

*'  Maybe  she  is  mistaken  in  the  day." 


172  MRS.    MARTIN   MAKES   A   DISCOVERY. 

"No,  she  is  not  mistaken. — And  that  is  not  all  I  have 
found  Old.'' 

"Well,  what  else?" 

"  That  Leon  Gachet  was  the  only  person  that  was  at 
Belleview  that  evening." 

Mr.  Martin  was  visibly  surprised  by  his  wife's  infor- 
mation. After  a  moment's  thought,  he  said :  "I  never 
would  have  traced  up  that  unknown  messenger,  which,  I 
think,  could  have  been  easily  done.  I  felt  certain  that 
Leon  had  too  much  sense,  and  too  much  honor,  to  have 
been  guilty  of  such  an  action." 

"A  jealous  rival,  crazed  with  drink,  is  not  usually 
endowed  with  much  wisdom,  or  with  a  very  keen  sense 
of  honor.  I  am  going  to  the  bottom  of  this  affair  now, 
no  matter  what  happens.  Carlos  can  find  the  negro  that 
drove  that  wagon,  and  he  shall  do  it." 

Mr.  Martin  could  not  keep  from  laughing  at  his  wife's 
earnestness,  although  he  felt  very  much  interested  in  the 
affair  himself. 

"  I  declare,  old  lady,  you  are  a  born  detective,  as 
well  as  a  match-maker.  What  a  pity  that  jou  have  to 
wear  petticoats." 

"  You  may  laugh,  sir,  as  much  as  3'ou  please,  but  I 
am  in  earnest — I  am  determined  that  that  sin  shall  be 
brought  home  to  the  guilty  one,"  she  replied,  more  em- 
phatic than  ever. 

Moliie  promptly  delivered  the  message,  and  added, 
when  Eima  made  no  repl}^ : 

"  By  the  way,  I  thought  she  was  rather  specially  in- 
terested in  our  visit  to  Judge  Brown's — asking  m,e  what 
day  vre  went,  if  you  accompanied  us,  and  what  time  in 
the  afternoon  we  got  back  —in  fact,  I  thought  her  man- 
ner and  questions  a  little  peculiar." 

"  Did  she  say  what  she  wanted  to  see  me  about?  " 

"  No,  m'  amie^  but  I  had  my  suspicions.  I  imagined 
that  she  had  heard  from  some  one  who  left  Somerville 
not  very  long  ago,  and  probably  has  a  message  to  de- 
liver," answered  Moliie,  mischievously. 

"  No  likelihood  of  that,"  was  the  quick  reply,  in  a 
tone  that  warned  the  other  th:\t  si  10  was  touching  on 
iui  unpleasant  subject. 

Moliie  had  not  been  so  much  preoccupied  with  her 
pwu  love  ^^air  as  to  be  eutu-ely  blind  to  what  had 


BELLEVIEW.  173 

passed  between  her  friend  and  Wyndship.  The  latter's 
admiration  had  not  escaped  her  observation,  and  nat- 
urally feeling  some  interest  on  both  Elma's  and  her 
brother's  account,  she  had  added  a  good  deal  by  guesses. 
His  sudden  departure,  without,  as  far  as  she  knewj 
any  communication  with  the  object  of  his  admiration,' 
coupled  with  a  slight,  but  unaccountable  change  in  the 
latter's  manner  since  then,  had  made  her  suspect  that 
all  was  not  right  between  the  two.  Her  own  exuberant 
happiness  rendered  her  only  the  more  sympathetic  about 
any  troubles  her  friend  might  have,  and,  as  love  was  the 
principal  subject  of  her  own  reflections,  she,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  ascribed  Elma's  late  pensiveness  to  the 
same  source. 

''Elma,"she  asked,  caressingly,  ''I  want  to  ask 
you  a  question.  Will  you  give  me  your— a  truthful 
answer?" 

/'I  can't  promise  that,  my  dear,  until  I  hear  the  ques- 
tion.    It  might  be  one  I  couldn't  answer." 
^    ''Oh,  yes  you  can— if  you   will.     Won't  you   prom- 
ise ? '  ^1 

"  I  must  hear  the  question  first." 

"  You  are  not  generous,  nor— nor  just,  either.  You 
do  not  confide  in  me  as  I  do  in  you." 

A  slight  expression  of  uneasiness  was  visible  in  El- 
ma's face  and  manner,  as  she  tried  to  evade  this  accu- 
sation. 

"  That  is  because  I  have  nothing  to  confide." 
"  I  have  never  kept  anything  back  from  you,"  Molli-- 
contniued,  in  a  reproachful  tone.  "  I  have  always  told 
you  my  secrets— told  you  all  about— about  Charley  " 
she  added,  in  pretty  confusiom ;  '' and— and  I  didn't 
wait  for  you  to  ask  me,  either." 

"  I  know  you  have,  my  dear  little  friend,  and  I  fully 
appreciate  your  confidence  ;  but  I— I  have  nothino-  like 
that  to  confide.  Should  I  ever  have  a  lover,  like  you 
have,  I  promise  you  now  to  be  equally  as  free  as  you 
have  been,  and  will  tell  you  all  about  it  as  soon  as  it 
occurs.  But-but  you  will  have  to  wait,  I  fear,  a  good  " 
long  time.  _  The  assumption  of  jocularity  with  which 
this  was  said,  was  a  miserable  failure,  and  did  not  de- 
ceive the  other  in  the  least. 

T  Z,'-^^  J?''  ^''^''  ^^""^  ^  ^^'^^^*-     Haven't  you  one   now? 
I  thought  as  much  a  week  or  two  back."         ■ "    ''       ^ 


174  MRS.    MARTIN    MAKES    A    DISCOVERY. 

The  flush  on  Ehna's  face  deepened  a  little,  and  then 
died  away,  leaving  it  pale  and  hard. 

"No  doubt,"  she  answered,  bitterly,  "  that — that  I 
have  had  make-believe  lovers,  who  make  love  for  fun, 
and  for  amusement,  but  I  have  no  reason  to  believe  that 
I  have  ever  had  any  of  the  genuine  kind,  lil^e  yours, 
yet." 

*'  I  thought  that  Mr.  Wyndship  was  in  love  with  you 
— I  was  certain  of  it,  and " 

"  You  must  not  be  so  certain  about  the  things  you  im- 
agine," interrupted  Elma. 

*'  I  don't  believe  it  was  im.agination  altogether. 
Hasn't  some  trouble — some  misunderstanding  arisen  be- 
tween you  and  him?" 

"  AVhat  misunderstanding  could  there  be  between — 
between  us  ?  You  are  giving  too  loose  a  rein  to  your 
fancy.  There  is  no  telling  what  improbable  picture  it 
will  conjure  up  next." 

"  You  talk  that  way,  Elma,  to  hide  the  truth  from  me. 
I  was  not  the  only  one  to  think  the  same  thing — Char — 
Mr.  Hurst  said  that  Mr.  Wyndship  was  badly  smitten  ; 
and  he  asked  me  once  what  I  thought  would  be  his  fate, 
sJiould  he  ever  muster  up  courage  enough  to  make  a  pro- 
posal." 

"  What  did  vou  say  ?  "  asked  the  other,  quickly. 

"  That  I  didn't  know." 

"  I  have  been  told  that  some  men,  when  they  are  in- 
toxicated, think  every  one  else  is  drunker  than  them- 
selves, and  I  expect  it  is  the  same  way  with  you 
lovers." 

Mollie  was  not  convinced,  but  not  wishing  to  extort 
her  friend's  confidence,  v^'hich  she  thought  should  have 
been  given  voluntarily,  she  desisted  from  further  ques- 
tions, and,  being  a  little  touched  by  this  want  of  confi- 
dence, left  Elma  to  her  own  reflections. 

Since  that  night  in  Christmas  week,  Elma  had  spent 
no  little  time  in  this  occupation,  or  rather  want  of  oc- 
cupation. It  did  not  take  her  long  to  find  out  how  she 
liked  being  loved  by  the  "  Yankee  teacher."  The  strange 
flutter  at  her  heart,  when  she  lay  in  his  arms,  and  heard 
his  broken  exclamations  of  love  and  horror,  were  soon  in- 
terpreted, forcing  the  acknowledgment  that  it  was  a  very 
pleasant  experience,  and  that  she  valued  this  conquest 
higher  than  any  other  blessing  life  could  bring.     Neithur 


BELLEVIEW.  175 

could  phe  see  any  reason  why  he  should  not  follow  up 
his  disclosure  of  his  love,  by  sueiug  for  the  hand  and 
heart  she  was  read}'  to  bestow  in  exchange.  When  the 
declaration  came,  that  afternoon  in  the  boat,  happiness 
and  a  natural  confusion  kept  her  silent  at  first,  and  be- 
fore she  had  recovered  sufficiently  for  speech,  they  were 
interrupted  by  Arthur  Slaton  ;  still,  she  thought,  assent 
hrid  heen  given  in  a  way  that  he  could  not  possibly  mis- 
understand. 

Neither  could  she  see  any  serious  objection  to  their 
union.  That  she  was  rich  and  he  was  poor,  to  her 
mind,  was  no  obstacle  whatever  ;  although  she  knew  that 
her  guardian  and  many  of  her  friends  would  bitterly  op- 
pose the  match  on  that  ground — would  say  that  she  was 
marrying  below  herself,  and  that  she  was  throwing  her- 
self away,  and  so  forth.  But  she  thought  different,  and 
lightly  valued  her  wealth  in  comparison  with  the  great 
and  noble  qualities  which  her  partiality  had  ascribed  to 
her  lover.  It  is  true  she  rejoiced  in  having  these  ad- 
vantages, but  it  was  because  she  thought  that  they  would 
be  great  assistance  to  him  in  his  struggle  with  the 
world — in  his  upward  course  to  fame  and  fortune.  Of 
course  he  would  succeed — no  man  possessing  the  quali- 
ties with  which  she  had  endowed  him  in  her  imagination 
could  fail  of  success — and  when  he  had  achieved  his 
greatness,  if  any  reflected  rays  of  glory  fell  on  her, 
they  would  be  valued  because  they  emanated  from  him, 
and  not  for  any  other  distinction  they  brought. 

Consequently,  Colonel  Gachet's  announcement  at  the 
supper- table,  that  he  had  met  Wyndship  on  his  way 
back  North,  was  not  only  a  complete  surprise,  but  was 
also  a  painful  shock,  which  required  all  her  power  of 
self -control  to  hide  from  the  others.  This  was  indeed 
startling  news — what  could  it  mean?  She  could  un- 
derstand why  he  should  promptly  fly  to  the  bedside  of 
a  dying  mother,  but  why  should  he  leave  without  ap- 
prising her  of  his  intention?  Surely,  he  must  know 
that  his  sorrows  and  griefs  were  also  hers,  and  that  in 
so  great  a  trouble  he  would  have  from  her  that  heart- 
felt sympathy  to  which  he  was  entitled  by  the  position 
of  an  accepted  lover.  And  then,  too,  this  assertion 
that  he  never  expected  to  return.  AYhat  did  that  mean? 
If  this  was  true,  she  had  been  badly  duped,  and  her 
heart  had  been  the  plaything  of  a   man   who,  probably, 


176  :vnis.  martin  makes  a  discovert. 

only  wished  to  see  what  success  he  could  attain  in  mak- 
ing love  to  a  Southern  girl.  Having  succeeded,  possi- 
bly, beyond  his  most  sanguine  expectation,  he  now  left 
without  a  word  of  explanation  ;  and  if  anxiety  for  his 
mother  permitted  any  thought  of  the  matter,  no  doubt 
he  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve  over  the  easy  victory.  At 
the  thought,  the  hot  blood  of  shame  tingled  through  her 
veins,  dying  to  a  scarlet  hue  both  face  and  neck,  but 
speedily  changing  to  a  deadly  pallor,  as  the  full  force  of 
the  blow  was  acknowledged  b}^  the  aching  heart.  All 
her  pride  could  not  smother  the  pain,  or  cure  the  wound, 
although  it  might  hide  its  existence  from  the  prying  eyes 
of  the  world.  Her  hero  had  proved  a  villain — her  idol 
had  turned  to  clay,  and  all  the  worship  her  heart  had 
been  bestowing  in  secret,  had  been  wasted  on  a  "  mock- 
ing shrine."  Oh,  how  could  she  have  been  so  badl}^  de- 
ceived— was  it  indeed  true,  that  the  man  she  loved — 
that  her  fancy  had  endowed  with  such  noble  attributes — 
had  really  deserted  her  just  so  soon  as  he  discovered  his 
conquest?  Surely,  there  must  have  been  some  mistake. 
Her  guardian  must  have  misunderstood  the  reply,  or  her 
lover,  absorbed  in  grief  about  his  mother,  did  not  catch 
the  question  aright.  Ah,  hope  and  faith — those  minis- 
tering angels — the  greatest  gifts  of  God  to  man,  how 
many  a  bleeding  heart  they  have  anointed  with  balm, 
how  many  a  sorrow-burdened  soul  they  have  sustained 
and  cherished  in  the  hour  of  need  ? 

"  You  were  away  on  a  visit,  the  evening  before  he 
left,"  they  whispered,  "  and  possibly  he  did  come,  find- 
ing no  one  at  home.  After  supper  he  was  busy,  making 
arrangements  for  his  sudden  departure,  and  could  not 
repeat  the  call.  He  would  have  so  much  to  do — so  many 
hurried  arrangements  to  make — and  the  trustees  to  see 
about  the  school — and  maybe  it  was  night  before  he  re- 
ceived his  sister's  letter.  Not  being  able  to  see  you,  he 
has  written,  explaining  all,  and  by  some  accident,  or 
carelessness  of  others,  his  note  has  been  delayed  ;  to-mor- 
row it  will  come,  and  all  will  be  made  clear."  So  faith, 
for  the  time,  came  to  the  rescue,  although  it  could  not 
keep  the  pillow  dry,  that  supported  Elma's  head  that 
night. 

But  to-morrow  did  not  bring  the  expected  note.  Pa- 
tiently she  waited  and  watched  the  coming  and  going 
all  day,  but  the  dreary   shades   of  night   closed   down 


BELLE  VIEW.  1^? 

with  no  news  and  no  explanation.  The  next  day  and 
the  day  after  were  the  same,  or  even  worse,  for  Mrs. 
Martin's  cool  nod  and  passing  on  without  a  word  de- 
stroyed her  last  hopes.  The  ministrations  of  faith  were 
ended,  her  supply  of  balm  exhausted,  and  to  pride  alone 
could  she  now  look  for  support.  This  was  poor  conso- 
lation, but  it  did  not  entirely  fail  her,  and,  as  the  con- 
viction of  her  lover's  unworthiness — of  his  baseness 
and  treachery — became  a  question  of  doubt  no  longer, 
she  called  all  her  self-respect  to  her  aid.  If  this  was 
his  true  character,  how  fortunate  §he  was  to  discover  it 
in  time,  even  if  her  heart  did  bear  an  incurable  wound. 
This  lesson  was  truly  worth  the  purchase,  although  it  did 
bring  months  of  pain,  and  years  of  humiliation.  Love 
for  such  a  person  could  be  easily  conquered,  and  con- 
quer it  she  would,  no  matter  what  might  be  the  cost. 
Every  root  and  vestige  of  the  fatal  passion  should  be 
torn  from  her  heart,  even  if  it  left  that  member  as  dead 
and  lifeless  as  last  summer's  forest  leaves ;  and  the 
wound  should  be  concealed  from  view  by  a  mantle  of 
pride,  so  close  and  thick  that  no  one  would  ever  suspect 
its  existence.  Such  earthly  happiness  as  she  had  fan- 
cied was  in  her  grasp,  could  never  be  hers  again  ;  still 
she  could  live  without  it,  and  no  one  would  ever  know 
the  difference. 

Thus  her  pride  reasoned,  nor  was  its  assurance  alto- 
gether an  idle  boast.  So  well  did  she  succeed,  so  far  as 
concealment  went,  that  none  of  the  family  (with  the  ex- 
ception of  Mollie)  suspected  the  truth ;  and  even  the 
latter's  suspicions  were  founded  more  on  what  she  had 
observed  before,  than  after  Wyndship's  departure.  It 
was  hard  work  to  always  keep  up  this  assumption  of 
careless  indifference,  but  if  the  mask  was  ever  lowered 
before  any  one,  that  person  was  Mollie.  Occasional 
spells  of  what  that  young  lady  had  denominated  to  Mrs. 
Martin  as  solemncholy,  had  once  or  twice  fallen  under  her 
observation,  but  even  these  were  so  slight  that  she 
would  have  attached  no  particular  importance  to  the 
symptom,  had  she  not  already  suspected  that  something- 
more  than  mere  friendship  was  existing  between  Elma 
and  Wyndship. 

If  Leon  knew  anything,  or  had  ever  seen  behind  the 
curtain,  he  made  no  sign.  His  attentions  had  become 
more  tender  and  lover-like,  but  this  was  partly  counter- 


178         AN   EXPLANATION    AND    A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR. 

balanced  by  their  being  more  respectful  and  less  obtru- 
sive ;  and  it  would  have  been  hard  to  determine  whether 
the  difference  was  caused  b}^  sympathy,  by  prickings  of 
conscience,  or  because  he  had  fallen  more  deeply  in 
love.  There  might  have  been  still  another  reason,  and 
that  was,  that  she  had  partly  abandoned  her  old  system 
of  evasion,  and  did  not  try  his  patience  so  severely  as 
before. 

In  truth,  her  burdens  had  become  too  onerous,  and 
she  too  reckless,  to  care  much  whether  he  addressed  her 
or  not — even  marriage  with  him  was  losing  some  of  its 
repulsive  features.  True,  it  offered  no  prospect  of  hap- 
piness ;  but  what  did?  AVith  whom,  or  how,  could  she 
ever  hope  for  this  condition  again  ?  If  it  pleased  and 
gratified  his  family,  to  whom  she  was  indebted  for  so 
much  kindness,  why  not  make  the  sacrifice?  particularly 
as  she  had  no  hopes  to  surrender,  no  bright  and  joyous 
aspirations  to  immolate. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AN  EXPLANATION  AND  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 

On  receiving  Mrs.  Martin's  message,  Elma's  first  im- 
pulse was  not  to  go — not  to  visit  the  house  which  had 
lately  been  the  home  of  one  whose  deceit  had  caused 
her  so  much  pain  and  humiliation.  This  repugnance 
was  partly  owing  to  Mollie's  suggestion  that  the  former 
might  have  some  message  to  deliver  from  AYyndship. 
Her  pride  told  her  that  she  did  not  wish  to  receive  any 
communication  from  him,  nor,  in  fact,  to  ever  hear  froui 
him  again.  He  had  had  his  fun  at  her  expense — had 
won  his  little  triumph — and  now  let  him  go  on  his  way 
rejoicing — she  did  not  wish  to  ever  hear  his  name  called 
again.  It  was  a  strong  desire  for  a  solitary  horseback 
ride  in  the  fresh  air,  and  nothing  more,  that  caused  her 
to  have  her  horse  saddled  next  morning.  Any  other 
road  would  have  been  more  secluded  than  the  one 
through  Somerville,  still  an  impulse,  which  she  did  not 
stop  to  analyze,  caused  her  to  turn  her  horse's  head  in 
that  direction  ;  and  the  same  motive  povrer  caused  her 
to  check  it  before  Mrs.  Martin's  gate.  The  latter  was 
on  the  lookout,  and  before  pride  and  indignation  could 
come  to  the  rescue   by  the  use   of  Elma's   riding   whip, 


BELLEVIEW.  179 

she  appeared  at  the  door,  and  her  solicitations  prevailed 
over  their  surly  promptings. 

It  was  Mrs.  Martin's  intention  to  approach  the  sub- 
ject of  the  note  and  flowers  in  a  scientific,  lawyer-like 
manner ;  that  is,  to  first  find  out  all  she  could  by  round- 
about questions,  put  in  a  way  that  would  not  excite  her 
visitor's  suspicions  as  to  her  object.  If  the  result  of 
this  investigation  should  prove  satisfactory,  verifying 
the  correctness  of  Mollie's  testimony,  then  she  would 
exhibit  the  document  left  with  her  by  W3mdship,  and 
explain  her  object ;  but  if  it  should  turn  out  different, 
that  MoUie  was  mistaken  in  dates,  then  she  would  have 
the  option  whether  to  proceed  with  the  disclosure,  or  re- 
main silent.  Unfortunate  for  this  resolve,  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin was  not  a  trained  lawyer,  and  was  too  full  of  her 
subject  to  be  cool  and  skilful.  Besides,  Elma  was  easily 
frightened,  and,  soon  suspecting  something,  became 
very  cautious  and  evasive  in  her  replies  ;  consequently, 
after  one  or  two  miserable  failures,  the  former  discarded 
such  tactics  in  despair,  and  plunged  boldly  into  the  af- 
fair. 

"Elma,"  she  said,  taking  the  note  from  her  work-box 
after  beguiling  her  reluctant  visitor  into  removing  her 
hat,  *'  I  want  you  to  look  at  this,  and  explain  its  mean- 
ing to  me.     This  is  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  about." 

"What  is  it?" 

"It  is  a  note — about  you,  and — and  I  do  not  under- 
stand what  it  means." 

The  thought  flashed  through  Elma's  mind  at  once  that 
the  note  was  from  Wyndship,  either  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Martin,  and  referring  to  his  flirtation  with  herself ;  or 
else  intended  for  her,  and  sent  under  cover  of  a  letter  to 
the  former.  In  either  case,  he  was  adding  insult  to  in- 
jury. Making  no  motion  to  take  the  extended  paper, 
she  demanded,  in  a  tone  all  ice  and  haughtiness  :  "  Is  it 
addressed  to  me  ?  " 

"  No,  but  3'ou  are  connected  with  its  contents." 

Elma  stiffened  perceptibly,  and  did  not  even  look  at 
the  proffered  epistle. 

"  It  has  your  name  signed  to  it,"  added  her  hostess, 
"  but  I  don't  believe  you  wrote  it.  Look  at  it,  and  tell 
me  if  you  dM." 

The  girl's  indignation  gave  way,  somewhat,  to  sur- 
prise, and  she  hesitatingly  took  the"^  paper   and   glanced 


180    AN  EXPLANATION  AND  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 

over  its  contents.  As  she  did  so,  the  surprise  increased, 
deepening  into  amazement. 

"  What  does  this  mean?"  she  exclaimed,  when  she 
had  finished  the  perusal.  Where  did  this  come  from  ? 
What  is  it?" 

*'  You  did  not  write  it?  " 

' '  Me  ?     Write  this  ?     How  could  I  ?  " 

*'  It  bears  your  signature." 

"My  name,  but  not  my  signature — I  never  saw  it  be- 
fore.    What  does  this  mean,  Mrs.  Martin?" 

"  Mr.  Wyndship  sent  you  some  flowers  once  that  you 
declined  to  accept." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  she  answered,  with  a  partial  re- 
turn of  her  former  chilliness,  "he  never  sent  me  any 
flowers." 

"  Yes,  the  afternoon  before  he  left." 

"  No,  he  did  not — I  was  not  at  home  on  that  day." 

"Very  good — still,  he  sent  them  by  Carlos,  and  they 
were  returned  the  same  evening,  with  that  note." 

There  was  no  cause  for  doubting  Mrs.  Martin's  sin- 
cerity, and  consequently  amazement  again  dominated 
the  expression  on  Elma's  face. 

"  Are  you  certain  about  this?" 

"  Yes.  Listen,  my  dear,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it."  Mrs.  Martin's  tone  was  becoming  very  motherly 
and  affectionate.  "  But  first,  let  me  ask  j^ou  a  question. 
Didn't  Mr.  Wyndship  address  you  a  short  time  before 
he  left?" 

A  wave  of  crimson  covered  the  girl's  face,  and  her 
eyes  grew  bright  with  something  like  defiance,  as  she 
looked  the  questioner  proudly  in  the  face.  Most  of  girls 
would  have  been,  or  pretended  to  be,  indignant,  or 
would  have  hung  their  heads  and  attempted  evasion,  but 
this  one  was  too  brave  to  do  either.  Even  had  she  been 
deceived,  still  her  conscience  told  her  that  she  had  done 
nothing  to  be  ashamed  of. 

"  He  told  me  that  he  did,"  continued  the  lady,  when 
she  saw  that  her  question  would  not  be  answered,  "  and 
he  thought  that  you  gave  him  encouragement,  although 
no  verbal  response.  He  made  me  his  confidante  from 
the  first." 

"If  he  did,  why  do  you  ask  me ? " 

"Because  I  wish  to  be  certain  there  was  no  misunder- 
standing on  his  part." 


BELLEVIEW.  181 

"  There  was  nothing  for  hiin  to  misunderstand — if 
any  one  was  deceived,  it  was  I." 

"  Very  well,  there  has  been  a  trick  played  on  you 
both,  as  that — that  mean,  contemptible  forgery  there 
shows.  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  it." 
Commencing  with  her  first  conversation  with  Wyndship, 
soon  after  the  Christmas  party,  Mrs.  Martin  related 
what  passed  between  them  then  and  afterwards : 
all  about  the  bouquet,  of  his  eager  assent  to  her  sugges- 
tion about  sending  it — all  that  Carlos  told  of  its  deliv- 
ery to  Leon  Gachet — what  Celia  reported  about  its  re- 
turn— how  he  found  it  in  his  room  when  he  went  to  get 
ready  to  make  his  farewell  call  at  Belleview — and  dwell- 
ing particularly  on  his  misery  and  despair  under  the 
double  affliction.  But  the  latter  was  unnecessary,  for, 
as  she  proceeded,  surprise,  sorrow,  pain,  and  anguish 
rapidly  succeeded  each  other  in  Lima's  countenance,  and 
by  the  time  the  narration  was  completed,  her  head  was 
bowed  upon  folded  arms,  resting  on  the  table. 

*'  He  was  convinced  that  you  sent  back  the  flowers — 
that  you  were  flirting  with  him,  although  he  would  not 
say  so  ;  and — and  I  was  almost  convinced  myself." 

"Oh,  how  could  you?"  cried  Lima,  looking  up,  but 
only  for  one  brief  instant.  A  shudder  and  a  broken 
sob  warned  Mrs.  Martin  that  the  girl  desersxd  no  scold- 
ing. Gently  she  passed  her  arm  around  the  shaking 
form,  and  tried  to  soothe  and  console  instead. 

"  He  went  away  thinking  I  wrote  it,"  she  sobbed  at 
length.  "  His  love  has  turned  to  scorn  and  contempt, 
and  I — I  loved  him.  Oh,  Mrs.  Martin,  why  didn't  you 
tell  him  better?  You  ought  to  have  known  I  didn't 
write  it." 

I — I  was  a  fool,"  acknowledged  the  latter,  contritely, 
I  was  partly  deceived  myself.  I  know  it  is  hard  to 
bear,  my  dear,"  she  continued,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
"  but — but  you  must  not  despair — all  wiU  come  right 
yet." 

"  If  he  only  knew  the  truth,  I  would  not  care  so  much, 
but  how  he  must  hate  and  despise  me." 

''  Never  mind,  he  sJiaU  know  the  truth — ^I  will  see  to 
that — and  when  he  learns  what  a  trick  has  been  played 
on  you  both,  he  will  come  back,  never  fear.  You  must 
not  give  up,  all  will  come  right  yet — a  just  God  will  not 


182  AN  EXPLANATION  AND  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 

permit  such  wickedness  to  prosper.     Besides,  we   have 
another  duty  to  perform." 

Ehna  raised  her  head,  and  her  eyes  fell  on  the  paper, 
now  l3^ing  on  the  floor.  The  sight  immediately  recalled 
her  self-possession. 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  "  there  is  one  thing  that  I  have  got 
to  do,  if  possible,  and  that  is,  to  find  out  the  person  who 
wrote  that — to  discover  its  contemptible  author — and 
when  I  succeed,  no  matter  who  it  may  be,  he  or  she 
shall  smart  and  burn  as  they  never  did  before.  Unless 
they  are  perfectly  destitute  of  all  conscience,  and  of  all 
self-respect,  I  shall  make  them  suffer  for  their  cowardly 
act."  In  all  her  life,  p]lma  Owens  had  never  looked  so 
handsome  as  she  did  in  her  righteous  anger  and  indigna- 
tion, just  then.  "  Won't  3-0U  help  me  to  discover  the 
guilty  one,  Mrs.  Martin?  " 

"  That  I  will,  and  gladly.  I  do  not  believe  it  will  be 
hard  to  do — circumstances  already  point  him  out." 

' '  Who  is  it  ?  who  do  you  suspect  ?  " 

' '  Who  was  at  Belleview  that  afternoon  ?  " 

*'  No  one,  that  I  am  aware  of — only  Mr.  Gachet,  who 
came  home,  I  suppose,  some  time  in  the  afternoon." 

"  Leon  Gachet  is  the  man." 

"  Oh,  no,  Mrs.  Martin,  that  can't  be  possible." 

*'  Leon  was  the  only  person  at  home  that  afternoon  ; 
Carlos  says  he  delivered  the  flowers  to  him — they  were 
returned  before  sunset — now,  who  else  can  it  be  ?  " 

Elma  stared  at  the  accuser  for  a  moment  as  if  as- 
tounded, and  then  stooping  down,  picked  up  the  note. 
She  smoothed  the  creases  out  carefully,  and  examined 
it  veiy  closely  before  replying. 

"  Mr.  Gachet  does  not  write  a  good  hand,"  she  said, 
when  through  with  her  scrutiny,  "  and  I  do  not  believe 
he  can  imitate  a  lady's  hand  so  perfectly.  Who  ever 
wrote  this,  if  not  a  woman,  was  certainly  an  adept  with 
the  pen — much  more  skilful  than  I  think  he  is  ;  besides, 
with  all  his  faults,  I  can't  believe  him  capable  of  such 
dishonesty.     No,  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken." 

"Isn't  he  in  love  with  you,  too?" 

No  answer  was  made  to  this  question,  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin continued  :  "  A  man  in  the  condition  he  was  in — 
crazy  with  both  drink  and  jealousy — will  commit  most 
any  crime.  All  the  circumstances  point  to  him,  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  there  is  only  one  link  wanting   in   our 


feELLEVIEW.  '      18.^ 

chain  of  evidence,  and  that  is,  the  strange  negro  who 
acted  as  his  messenger.  We  must  hunt  him  up,  and 
make  him  tell  who  gave  him  that  note  and  the  bou- 
quet." 

"How  can  we  find  him ?  " 

"  Carlos  can  do  that,  I  think — at  least,  I  am  going  to 
make  him  tr}^" 

"  Probably  I  can  find  out  something  among  the  ne- 
groes at  Belleview." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,  but  it  will  be  best  for  us  to 
keep  our  investigation  a  secret,  and  if  you  commence 
making  inquiries  among  the  negroes  there,  it  might  come 
to  Leon's  ears.  No,  you  must  let  me  send  Carlos,  he  is 
sharp  and  shrewd,  and  will  be  very  apt  to  find  out  all 
they  know.  Mr.  Martin  is  going  to  start  to  Charleston 
to-morrow,  on  business,  and  I  want  you  to  come  and 
stay  with  me  while  he  is  gone — Johnnie  Hall  will  stay 
with  us  at  night — and  with  the  assistance  of  Carlos,  we 
will  turn  detectives  until  the  whole  plot  is  unravelled. 
Now  don't  stop  to  think  up  excuses,  but  say  you  will 
come — I  will  want  your  company,  anj^how." 

Elma  promised,  and  moreover,  finding  an  opportunity 
to  send  a  message  to  Belleview,  accounting  for  her  ab- 
sence, also  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  with  her 
hostess,  laying  plans  for  pushing  their  undertaking,  and 
in  talking  about  the  absent  one.  That  is,  most  of  the 
day,  as  part  of  the  afternoon  was  spent  by  the  latter  in 
writing  a  letter,  in  which  occupation  Elma  was  very 
much  interested,  and  was  very  careful  that  she  should 
not  be  disturbed. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LEON  MAKES  LOVE AND  SO  DOES  CARLOS. 

If  Elma  still  wished  for  solitude  during  her  ride  home 
that  evening,  she  wns  destined  to  be  disappointed,  for, 
just  as  she  was  preparing  to  mount  her  horse  at  Mr. 
Martin's  gate,  Leon  rode  up.  That  he  had  not  come 
sooner  was  a  source  of  considerable  satisfaction  to  the 
lady  of  the  house,  as  in  her  present  frame  of  mind,  his 
presence  in  her  home  could  hardly  have  been  agreeable. 
Still,  she  managed  to  politely  return  his  salutation  when 


184  LEON    MAKES    LOVE AND    SO    DOES    CARLOS. 

she  accompanied  her  guest  to  the  gate,  probablj^  con- 
soled by  the  thought  that  there  was  a  very  stout  and  tough 
rod  being  seasoned  for  his  particular  benefit. 

But  Leon  was  in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  plot  against 
his  peace  of  mind,  and  while  he  had  been  doing  some 
thinking  during  the  day,  it  was  not  about  the  probabil- 
ity or  possibility  of  there  being  any  serious  danger  to 
himself  in  the  near  future.  To  the  contrar^^,  he  decided 
that  there  was  no  necessity  nor  reason  v>'hy  the  realiz- 
ation of  his  happiness  should  be  further  postponed. 
To  hesitate  any  longer  in  demanding  his  prize  would 
onl}^  be  the  act  of  a  coward,  unworthy  of  one  who  was 
such  a  worthy  descendant  of  the  Gachets,  especially 
when  success  seemed  to  be  so  m.uch  a  matter  of  course. 
Notwithstanding  such  a  consoling  and  egotistical  esti- 
mate of  his  merits,  and  of  his  chances,  it  was  not  with- 
out some  tremors  •  of  fear,  that,  so  soon  as  they  had 
passed  the  few  scattering  houses  of  Somerville,  he  com- 
menced the  story  of  his  love. 

He  was  listened  to  in  a  perfect  silence,  which  con- 
tinued after  he  had  finished,  and  began  begging  for  an 
immediate  answer.  Silence  was  favorable,  almost  equal 
to  a  yes,  he  knew  ;  still  his  exacting  nature  demanded 
something  more  definite.  His  importunities,  however, 
brought  no  words,  only  a  momentary  glimpse  of  a  proud, 
exultant  smile  on  the  face,  which,  except  for  that  in- 
stant, was  kept  carefully  averted  ;  but  that  glimpse  was 
enough  to  set  his  heart  afire  with  joy.  Could  it  be  pos- 
sible that  his  jealous  fears  all  along  had  been  utterly 
without  grounds — that  all  those  little  evasions  had  been 
nothing  but  feminine  coquetry — that  this  girl  had  only 
been  waiting  for  the  offer,  to  accept  his  love  with  pride 
and  pleasure?  His  tremors  were  all  gone,  and  his 
equanimity  was  fully  restored,  as  he  begged  that  those 
' '  perfect  lips  "  might  give  him  a  verbal  confirmation  of 
his  hopes. 

AVomeu  are  ever  wilful  and  illogical,  however,  and 
when  she  did  speak,  his  eloquence  only  elicited  the  dec- 
laration that  it  was  impossible  to  give  him  an  answer 
just  then,  and  when  he  persisted,  Elma  ended  the  inter- 
view most  effectually  by  a  sharp  cut  with  her  riding- 
whip  on  the  flanks  of  her  horse,  which  sent  him  ahead 
in  a  reckless  gallop.  This  pace  she  kept  until  the  gate 
at  Belleview  was  reached,  and  she  was  again  under  Xk^ 


BELLE  VIEW.  185 

protection  of  his  step-mother's  and  sister's  presence. 
Contrive  as  he  ma}^,  no  opportunity  was  given  him  dur- 
ing the  evening  to  renew  his  appeal ;  in  fact,  as  soon  as 
supper  was  over,  she  went  up-stairs  to  her  room,  giving 
as  a  reason,  the  necessity  of  writing  a  letter  which 
was  due  her  friend,  Mrs.  Harris,  of  Macon.  At  last, 
angry  and  impatient  with  what  he  considered  as  so  much 
unnecessary  cojmess,  he  wrote  her  a  note,  sending  it  up 
by  Lina,  insisting  on  an  immediate  answer,  or  else  for 
some  token,  some  promise,  that  would  relieve  his  har- 
rowing suspense. 

Promptly  the  answer  came  : 

**  I  am  going  to-morrow  to  spend  a  week  with  Mrs.  Martin, 
and  when  I  return,  you  shall  receive  your  answer." 

With  this  he  was  forced  to  be  content — or  rather  was 
compelled  to  accept  this  despite  his  discontent — and 
he  went  to  bed  cursing  the  senseless  coquetry,  the  af- 
fected hesitation,  which  kept  back  the  ''yes"  that  he 
felt  almost  assured  must  be  her  final  answer.  Still  the 
belief  that  this  was  only  affectation  did  not  lessen  the 
value  of  the  prize  in  Leon's  estimation,  any  more  than 
having  to  wait  an  interminable  week  added  to  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  temper. 

''D n   it,"   he   muttered,    between    his   clenched 

teeth;  "  why  does  she  put  me  off  in  this  way,  when 
she  could  not  even  hide  how  pleased  and  elated  she  felt 
over  my  offer?" — the  true  cause  of  this  pleasure  he  had 
yet  to  find  out. 


"  Well,  Carlos,  you  understand  your  instructions, 
now,  and  know  what  you  are  to  do  ?  " 

''  Yes'm,  I  know  ;  I'se  got  all  yer  tells  me  in  he'er," 
responded  the  mulatto,  tapping  his  black,  curly  head. 

''  Go  to  Colonel  Gachet's  quarter,  and  find  out,  if  you 
can,  if  any  negro  driving  a  wagon,  stopped  there,  or 
was  seen  passing  by  there,  on  the  evening  you  carried 
the  bundle  to  Belleview  for  Mr.  AYyndship." 

''Yes'm,  I  understand." 

"  You  remember  the  evening  ?  They  will  remember 
it  at  the  quarter  as  the  day  Mrs.  Gachet  and  the  young 
ladies  went  to  Gay  Hill." 


186  LEON    MAKES    LOVE AND    SO    DOES    CARLOS. 

"  Yer  needn't  be  af eared,  Miss  Ellen  ;  dis  nigger  got 
some  sense.     He  knows  what  ter  do." 

*'Very  good.  We  are  trusting  you  with  an  impor- 
tant piece  of  business,  and  want  it  all  kept  perfectly 
quiet — you  must  be  very  cautious,  and  not  let  anybody 
suspect  3'our  object." 

"I'll  keep  'em  in  the  dark.     Don't  j^ou  be  af  eared." 

"  I  would  write  you  a  pass,  but  there  have  been  no 
'  patrolera'  riding  lately,  and  the  distance  is  so  short 
you  will  be  in  no  danger." 

"Hi!  no  patterroler  kin  ketch  dis  nigger — he's  too 
sharp  fer  dat." 

This  conversation  took  place  after  supper,  the  first 
night  of  Elma's  stay  with  Mrs.  Martin.  The  latter,  still 
eager  to  find  the  missing  link  in  her  chain  of  evidence, 
could  not  delay  their  investigation  any  longer  ;  so  Car- 
los, whom  she  regarded  as  perfectly  trustworthy,  and 
possessed  of  more  than  the  average  acuteness  of  his 
race,  was  commissioned  to  visit  the  Gachet  quarter,  and 
to  prosecute  secret  inquiries  among  its  inhabitants. 

"  I  would  not  entrust  this  matter  in  your  hands,  Car- 
los, if  I  did  not  have  a  great  deal  of  confidence  in  j^our 
sharpness,  and  in — your  discretion." 

Yf  ith  a  low  bow,  and  a  grin  of  delight  over  the  com- 
pliment, the  boy  withdrew. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Elma  was  entertaining  John- 
nie Hall  in  the  parlor,  with  music.  Her  rule  over  his 
boyish  heart  was  still  as  absolute  as  ever,  as  was  evident 
from  the  happy,  adoring  light  in  his  eyes  and  face. 
After  two  or  three  songs,  she  turned  and  said  :  "  Well 
Mr.  Johnnie,  how  many  young  ladies  have  you  killed 
since  Christmas,  with  that  deadly  little  pistol  of  j^ours?" 

"Now,  Miss  Elma,"  he  stammered,  "won't  you — 
won't  you  never  quit  throwing  that  up  to  me  ?  " 

"  You  don't  want  to  tell  me,  I  see." 

"  I — I  have  never  had  it  in  my  hands  since  that  night, 
and  I  have  never  wanted  to  sec  it  again." 

"  Ah,  I  am  the  only  person  you  have  a  gradge  against, 
then?" 

"  Now,  Miss  Elma." 

Elma's  face  began  to  redden  slightly,  and  her  voice 
was  losing  its  bantering  tone. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  don't  appreciate  Mr. your  pres- 
ent very  highly  ? " 


BELLEYIEW.  'i><l 

*'  I  didn't  want  it  and  I  wouldn't  have  taken  it,  l.ut 
Mr.  Wyudship  insisted  so.  I  wish  he  had  kept  the 
pistol,  and  given  me  something  else — that  is,  if  he  want- 
ed to  make  me  a  present." 

''  How  would  you  like  to  exchange  it  then — to — ^to 
swap  it,  as  you  boys  would  say,"  she  asked,  with  a  mis- 
erable attempt  to  appear  indifferent,  while  the  blushes 
on  her  face  were  plainly  discernible,  even  by  lamp-light. 

''  I  don't  know,"  he  answered,  in  hesitating  surprise. 

"What  will  you  take  for  it?  A  pony — a — a  shot-gun 
— some  nice  books,  or — I  want  a  pistol,"  she  added, 
desperately,  running  her  fingers  over  the  keys  as  if  the 
noise  would  hide  her  confusion.  "  How — how  will  you 
trade?" 

Johnnie  was  not  a  very  dull  boy,  and  without  another 
word  he  turned  and  left  the  rcom.  This  was  the  first 
time  that  Elma  had  sang  at  all  since  Wyndship's  depart- 
ure and  somehow  the  music  touched  her  sensibility  keenly, 
bringing  as  it  did  very  forcibly  to  her  memory,  associa- 
tions of  her  short-lived  love-dream,  and  of  the  cruel 
trick  that  had  ended  it,  possibly  forever.  One 
or  two  pearly  drops  splashed  on  the  ivory  keys,  refusing 
to  be  kept  back  now  that  no  one  was  present  to  criticise 
their  fall.  They  were  not  of  a  numerous  family,  and 
were  not  prone  to  break  out  on  the  slightest  provocation 
like  most  of  their  kindred ;  consequently,  their  appear- 
ance now  indicated  that  the  soul  which  was  their  abiding 
place,  was  bearing  a  grievous  burden.  The  boy  was  not 
gone  long,  and  soon  his  returning  footsteps  warned  them 
that  it  was  time  the}'^  were  fleeing  away  to  their  hiding- 
place,  and  their  mistress,  the  usefulness  of  a  handker- 
chief. He  came  back  with  a  morocco  pistol-case  in  his 
hand,  which  he  laid  on  the  instrument  by  her  side. 

"  Miss  Elma,  let  me  make  you  a  present  of  this.  "Will 
you  accept  it?  I  know  Mr.  Wyndship  would  not  object 
or  think  hard  of  me  for  giving  it  to  you.''  The  awk- 
ward bashfulness  of  the  boy  had  entirely  vanished,  and 
no  polished  gentleman  of  the  world  ever  offered  a  gift 
with  a  truer  and  more  gallant  grace.  His  reward  came 
quickly,  in  the  shape  of  a  grateful  glance  that  he  never 
forgot. 

'*  Thank  you,  Johnnie,"  she  answered,  in  the  sweetest 
of  trembling  voices,  ''  but  you  must  let  me  make  you  a 
present,  also." 


1<S<S  LEON   MAKES    LOVE AND    SO   DOES    CARLOS. 

Johnnie  was  equal  to  the  emergency,  as  he  answered 
with  his  best  bow  : 

''  Miss  Elma  Owen's  picture  is  the  only  thing  in  all  the 
world  that  I  desire." 

Had  he  been  a  few  j^ears  older,  Leon  and  ^Yyndship 
both,  could  they  have  peeped  through  the  door  just  at 
this  moment,  might  have  found  grounds  for  jealousy 
elsewhere  than  between  themselves.  A  younger  rival 
had  taken  the  field,  and  by  one  stroke  had  won  a  very 
warm  place  in  their  sweetheart's  esteem. 

When  Johnnie  asked  his  aunt  for  the  pistol,  he  had  to 
give  his  reasons  for  wanting  it,  before  she  would  comply 
with  his  demand. 

"Are  you  certain  that  she  wants  it?"  she  asked. 
"  Maybe  she  was  only  jesting." 

"  No,  I  think  she  was  in  earnest,  Aunt  Ellen — I'm 
sure  she  was." 

Mrs.  Martin  opened  a  drawer,  and  handed  it  out  with- 
out another  word,  but  she  had  her  thoughts  nevertheless. 
"  What  does  this  mean?  "  she  ejaculated  to  herself  when 
he  was  gone.  "•  Can  she  want  it  for  a  keep  sake?  Well, 
it  will  be  a  strange  one  indeed — a  deadly  weapon.  The 
superstitious  would  say  that  it  was  a  bad  omen — a  sign 
of  death  and  misery.  I  must  not  intimate  such  a  thing 
to  her  though,  for  the  poor  child  has  trouble  enough  that 
is  real,  without  assuming  others,  that  are  purely  imagin- 
ary." Consequently,  when  she  joined  the  other  two  in 
the  parlor,  she  made  no  allusion  to  the  pistol,  although 
the  case  still  lay  on  the  piano  in  plain  view. 

Leaving  this  trio  to  their  own  devices  for  entertain- 
ment, let  us  follow  Carlos  on  his  expedition  in  search  of 
the  desired  informatiouo  The  task  he  had  on  hand  was 
not  a  distasteful  one,  by  any  means,  and  he  set  out  to 
its  accomplishment  with  a  secret  joy  and  pride.  He 
felt  that  he  had  been  intrusted  with  an  important  mis- 
sion— one  requiring  secrecy,  shrewdness,  and  tact,  and 
consequently  was  a  compliment  of  which  he  must  not 
prove  unworthy.  He  was  devoted  to  his  mistress,  by 
whom  he  had  been  raised  almost  from  the  cradle,  and 
had  lived  ever  since  he  could  remember  in  and  about 
what  his  fellow-slaves  called  "  de  Buckra  house,"  Hav- 
ing always  received  good  treatment  at  her  hands,  he 
took   pleasure  in   doing   her   a   service ;  particularly  as 


BELLFVIEW.  189 

that  seiTice  Tras  out  of  the  regular  order,  nnd  promised 
some  spice  of  adventure — something  that  would  beat  a 
possum  hunt,  and  was  almost  equal  to  a  ''  corn  shuck- 
ing." He  was  not  as  ignorant  about  the  whys  andjwhere- 
fores  of  this  undertaking  as  might  be  supposed,  for  the 
servants  in  the  South  were  generally  very  well  posted  in 
all  that  transpired  in  theii*  owners'  households.  Their 
master's  family  was  their  family — in  fact,  each  little 
community  was  a  miniature  kingdom,  and  as  subjects, 
they  took  a  warm  interest  in  all  that  concerned  the  royal 
family.  Its  joys,  griefs,  and  troubles  were  theirs,  and 
fui-nished  the  principal  subject  of  the  daily  and  nightly 
consultations  among  themselves.  Carlos,  with  his  extra 
opportunities  for  acquiring  information,  not  only  sus- 
pected something  wrong  in  the  incident  of  the  flowers, 
but,  by  the  aid  of  a  little  guessing,  now  knew  almost  as 
much  about  it  as  his  mistress. 

On  account  of  the  uniform  kindness  and  considera- 
tion with  which  she  always  treated  them,  Elma  was  de- 
servedly popular  with  all  the  blacks  ;  and  notwithstand- 
ing their  predilection  to  look  down  with  contempt  on  all 
strange  whites  who  did  not  own  slaves,  Carlos  had  taken 
quite  a  fancy  to  ^Vyndship.  Therefore,  he  was  not 
averse  to  doing  them  both  a  favor.  Possibly,  in  addi- 
tion to  all  these  inducements,  he  thought  it  might  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  do  a  little  love-making  on  his 
own  account,  among  the  dusky  beauties  in  Colonel 
Gachet's  quarter. 

Avoiding  the  road,  he  followed  a  path  that  led  out 
through  Mr.  Martin's  orchard,  in  the  rear  of  his  house, 
to  a  skirt  of  timber.  On  the  further  side  of  these  woods 
he  climbed  over  a  fence  into  a  field,  and  by  the  aid  of 
the  moon,  and  his  own  thorough  knowledge  of  the  inter- 
vening farm,  worked  his  way  around  to  the  rear  end  of 
the  two  rows  of  Gachet  cabins  without  being  observed. 
Deliberating  with  himself  awhile,  he  selected  a  cabin  in 
one  of  the  rows,  and  watching  his  opportunity,  he 
slipped  past  the  houses  between,  and  safely  reached  the 
rear  of  the  one  selected,  whose  shadow  effectually  hid 
him  from  all  passers-by.  Now  all  this  caution  was  un- 
necessary, as,  so  far  as  he  knew,  he  could  have  fol- 
lowed the  public  highway  to  the  Colonel's  front  gate, 
passed  across  the  lawn,  around  the  dwelling,  and  have 
walked  boldly  through  the  quarter  from  one   end  to  the 


loo  LEON   IVIAKES    LOVE AND    SO    DOES    CARLOS. 

other,  without  being  molested.  But  to  have  proceeded 
in  this  open,  matter-of-fact  vray,  would  have  destroyed 
half  his  zest  in  the  enterprise.  He  was  on  secret  busi- 
ness, and  must  go  at  it  in  a  secret  way.  Placing  his 
ear  to  a  chink  in  the  wall,  he  listened  for  a  few  minutes 
to  the  desultory  conversation  going  on  within,  but  what 
he  heard  did  not  seem  satisfactory,  for  he  soon  desisted, 
and  commenced  examining  the  adjacent  habitations,  as  if 
to  select  another  for  the  same  operations.  AVhile  thus 
employed,  a  girl  with  a  bucket  came  out  of  one  further 
up  the  row,  and  passed  down  a  path  near  him. 

''Dat's  Cynthy,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  after  watch- 
ing her  pass.  "  She's  er  goin'  to  de  well  arter  water. 
Her  sister's  been  sick,  en'  maybe  she  been  stayin* 
about  de  house  to  wait  on  her — anyhow,  I  mout  as  well 
try  her,  as  not." 

Cautiously  following,  he  reached  the  well  just  as  she 
commenced  turning  the  windlass  in  drawing  up  the  wa- 
ter. The  easing  of  the  weight,  caused  by  his  pulling 
on  the  rope,  was  the  first  intimation  she  had  of  his  pres- 
ence. 

''  Who  dat?  "  she  cried,  stopping  short  with  the  turn- 
ing. 

*'  Unly  a  gem'man.  Miss  Cynthy,  who  wishes  de 
'maculate  pleasyer  of  'sisting  yer  to  haul  up  di«  yere 
bucket." 

"Dat  you,  Carlos?" 

' '  Dat's  de  name  yer  humbl'  'mirer  has  ter  'ply  to 
when  de  white  folks  want  him." 

"  Wat  yer  doing  yere  ?  " 

"  'Sistin'  de  lubl'est  gal  on  dis  yere  hill,  in  haul- 
ing up  dis  bucket — when  yer  gits  ready  to  perceed." 

"Hi,  nigger,  yer's  pow'ful  smart  wid  yer  tongue 
ter-night — swal'er'd  a  big  lot  er  sof  soap,  ain't  yer?" 
Notwithstanding  the  sarcasm,  Cynthia's  white  teeth 
gleamed  in  the  moonshine  with  pleasure,  at  the  compli- 
ments, with  which  Carlos  was  smoothing  his  way. 

"  De  lubly  face  ub  Miss  Cynthy  wud  s'lubercate  de 
tongue  ub  er — er  brass  owel,"  persisted  the  boy,  im- 
pressively. "  Yer  shudn't  be  so  'witchin',  ef  yer  don't 
want  ter  he'er  sich  talk." 

With  a  pleased  giggle,  the  girl  resumed  her  turning  of 
the  windlass,  until  the  water  was  safely  brought  to  the 
surface,  and  transferred  to  her  bucket. 


N  -  BELLEVIEW.  191 

"  'Low  me,"  he  said,  with  a  gallant  bow,  anticipating 
her  motion  to  take  up  the  latter. 

'•AY' at  3'er  doin'  he'er,  enyhow,  Carlos?"  she  asked, 
as  together  they  started  back  up  the  path  towards  the 
cabin.  Evidently,  she  did  not  yet  feel  assured  that  she 
was  the  object  of  his  visit. 

"Dat's  er  nice  quesshun  ter  ax  yer  'voted  'mirer, 
when  he  cum  ter  see  yer." 

"  I  'spects  yer  come  ter  see  some  oder  gal." 

"  Now,  Miss  Cynthy,  yer  shouldn't  'cuse  me  ub  dat, 
when  yer  knows  yer's  de  id'l  ub  my  heart." 

*'  Ain't  yer  'roun'  he'er  T>'aitin'  fur  Minty  ter  cum  furm 
de  Buckra  house  ?  "  she  asked,  still  not  satisfied. 

Now  Carlos,  j^oung  as  he  was,  had  already  gained  the 
reputation  of  being  somewhat  of  a  gallant  among  the 
young  darkies  in  the  neighborhood,  and  as  he  had  hith- 
erto paid  Cj^nthia  no  particular  attention,  she  had  just 
grounds  for  the  suspicion  expressed.  One  of  his  latest 
flames  had  been  jNIinty,  one  of  the  house  girls  at  Belle- 
view  ;  consequently,  it  became  very  necessary  to  over- 
come this  impression,  and  to  convince  his  companion 
that  she  had  no  cause  for  jealousy.  With  this  object  in 
view,  he  hastened  to  explain  that  he  was  "tired  ub  de 
'siety  of  dese  he'er  stack-up  gals,  w'at  lies  'round  de 
house,  doin'  nuffin,  en'  wants  ter  win  de  'fectshuns  of 
some  liibin'  sweetheart,  wat's  not  'feard  of  work,  or 
finks  herse'f  too  good  ter  toil  in  de  heat  ub  de  day." 

"  Umph,"  she  indignantly  retorted,  "yer's  badly 
fooled,  nigger,  if  yer  tinks  I'se  ony  co'nfiel'  darkey.  I 
stays  'bout  de  house,  now,  I  does,  and  waits  on    Mely." 

lie  had  evidently  started  off  on  the  wrong  tack,  but 
Carlos  was  too  much  of  a  diplomat  to  allow  so  insignifi- 
cant an  error  to  balk  his  plans  ;  so  he  earnestly  protested 
that  he  did  not  intend  to  ascribe  her  to  that  humble  and 
lowly  class — only  meaning  that  she  was  not  "  one 
of  dese  he'er  hi'falutin',  stuck-up  gals,  w'at  finks  dem- 
selves  too  good  to  iub  an  hones'  nigger  ;  "  and  so  suc- 
cessful was  he  in  the  use  of  his  tongue,  that  by  the  time 
th^'y  reached  Mely's  cabin,  he  had  made  a  pretty  fair  be- 
ginning towards  the  conquest  of  her  heart. 

"  Come  out,"  he  whispered,  as  he  relinquished  the 
handle  of  the  bucket  at  the  door;  "I  wants  ter 'varse 
some  more  wid  my  lubly  one  by  de  light  ub  de  moon. 
I'll  wait  fer  yer  'round  de  corner." 


192  LEON    aiAKES    LOVE AND    SO    DOES    CARLOS. 

Thanks  to  the  effects  of  his  taffy,  he  did  not  havp  to 
wait  long  before  she  rejoined  him ;  and  together  they 
sought  the  shadow  of  the  shade  trees  near  by.  While 
spreading  himself  in  dead  earnest  to  conquer  her  heart, 
he  did  not  forget  the  object  of  his  visit,  but  interspersed 
his  gallantry  and  love-making  with  leading  questions 
that  might  tend  to  bring  out  the  desired  information. 

*'  How  long  hes  de  'ngelic  Miss  Cjmthy  been  'gaged 
in  'meleratin'  de  sufferin's  ub  herde'er  sister?" 

"  Two  or  tree  week,  Mr.  Carlos — eber  since  she  been 
sick." 

"'N'no  doubt,  her  'fectionit  heart  'joys  habin'  de 
prib'lige  ub  remin'sterin'  ter  de  pains  w'at  company  de 
mort'l  herbilerments  ?  " 

"  I  lubs  ter  wait  on  de  sick,  'n'  de  subbrin',"  she  ad- 
mitted, with  a  telling  sigh. 

"  I  know'd  it — I  know'd  her  gentl'  bosom  were  ober- 
flowin'  wid  de  milk  ub  human  kindness." 

*'  I  dunno  w'at  Mely  wud  er  done  wit'out  me  ;  I  'est 
knows  dat  my  nursin'  sabed  her  life.  Missus  ses  she 
dunno  I  were  so  handy ;  'n'  she  ses  if  ]Minty  don't  do 
better'n  she  been  doin',  she  gwinetek  me  inde  house,  'n' 
sen'  her  ter  de  fiel'."  This  was  said  in  as  near  a  sister- 
of -mercy- tone,  as  the  self -congratulation,  and  the  malice 
towards  Minty,  v\^ould  admit. 

" 'N' I  wonder w'y  she  neber  done  dat  afore  now?" 
''I  spects  she  will  in  de  spring." 

"  So  yer's  been  'bout  de  house  dis  two  or   tree   week? 
Dat  splains  sometin'  dat  I  seed  'bout  two  weeks   ergo — 
sometin'  I  been  stud'in'  ober  eber  since." 
"W'at  dat?" 

*'  'Pears  ter  me  dat  I  seed  er  wagin  er  standin'  out 
dar  in  de  lane  by  itse'f ,  'n'  I  'est  low'd  dat  dat  dar  nig- 
ger Jim  ub  Massa  Harley,  wer  er  stealin'  er  visit  ter 
one  ub  de  gals  on  dis  yere  hill."  Carlos  had  never  seen 
anything  of  the  kind,  but  he  felt  that  it  was  necessary 
for  his  purpose  to  assume  that  he  had. 
'*  Hi !  who  you  tink  he  come  ter  see  ?  " 
"  De  lubles'  gal  in  all  de  country,  'n'  dat  girl  ain't  er 
standin'  er  far  ways  off  dis  minit." 

**  I  spects  I  kin  lay  my  han'  on  dat  girl  right  now," 
he  continued,  insinuatingly,  catching  hold  of  the  hand, 
one  good  size  larger  than  his  own,  with  which  she  play- 
fully motioned  to  push  him  off, 


"^  BELLEVIEW.  ,       -.•  .  ^^'5 

**  Umph,  <^o  way,  boy  ;  dat  black  nigger  Jim  know  bet- 
ter dan  ter  cum  'round  dis  gal.  He  git  sent  bout  he 
business  mi'ty  fast," 

''  Dem  der  seberations  mak's  dishe'er  boy  de  happ'est 
yaller  nigger  in  all  de  state  er  Georgy,"  exclaimed  Car- 
los, bowing  low  over  the  hand  he  was  squeezing. 

Cynthy  was  conquered.  Her  coquetry  could  not  re- 
sist such  heroic  love-making,  and  in  order  to  remove 
any  feelings  of  distrust  that  might  yet  linger  in  her  lov- 
er's mind,  she  hastened  to  explain  : 

"I  spects  dat  wagin  yer  seed  wer  Major  Dismuke's. 
He's  man,  Unkl'  Lum,  who  yer  know  are  de  daddy  ub 
Mely's  husban',  wer  er  carr'in'  some  hog  meat  frum  de 
plantation  ter  de  Buckra  house,  'n'  he  lef  it  standin'  out 
dar  in  de  lane  er  minit,  while  he  come  een  ter  see  how 
Mely  was  er  gettin'  'long." 

"  Wat  day  was  dat,  my  'ngelic  one? " 

"  Dat  was  er — dat  was  soon  arter  Mely  were  tak'n 
sick — let's  see — hi,  I  knows  w'at  day  it  were,  now,  case 
de  white  folks  was  all  gone  off  dat  day  in  de  kerrige,  er 
visit  in'  ." 

Carlos's  heart  gave  a  big  jump  up  into  his  throat,  and 
his  manner  lost  some  of  its  assumed  gallantry,  as  he 
asked  eagerly : 

"  'N'  warn't  none  ub  'em  at  home  ?  " 

•' We  tought  dey  was  all  gone, 'n'  told  Uncle  Lum 
dey  was,  but  when  he  start  back,  'n'  got  up  close  ter  de 
big  house,  Mas'  Leon  came  out  de  back  do',  'n'  call  him. 
I  spects  Uncle  Lum  were  mighty  skeard." 

"  What  Massa  Leon  do?  " 

"  He  call  Uncle  Lum  ter  come  dere,  'n'  den  he  went 
back  in  de  big  house,  'n'  'rectly  he  came  out  wid  er  bun- 
dl'  done  up  in  dis  he'er  big  paper,  what  de  buckra  folks 
read,  'n'  give  um  ter  Uncle  Lum.  I  couldn't  he'er  what 
he  sav,  but  Uncle  Lum  took  it  off  in  he  wag'n.  I  aims 
ter— ^" 

She  was  not  allowed  to  explain  what  she  intended  to 
do,  for  Carlos,  in  his  exuberant  joy  over  the  success  of 
his  mission,  so  easily  accomplished,  threw  one  arm 
around  her  neck,  and  undertook  to  give  expression  to 
his  feelings  by  a  sounding  smack  on  the  ebony  lips.  In 
the  struggle  that  ensued — she  wishing  to  enhance  the 
value  of  the  favor  by  just  so  much  opposition  as  would 
increase  his  efforts  without   finally   preventing  his   sue- 


194  LEON   MAKES   LOVE — AND    SO   DOES   CARLOS. 

cess — neither  of  them  perceived  that  a  spectator  had 
arrived,  and  was  watching  the  performancCo  This  per- 
son did  not  make  her  presence  known  until  Carlos  finally 
managed  to  place  the  kiss,  which  was  not  a  silent  one 
by  any  means,  on  the  spot  he  desired  it  to  occupy.  Then 
their  little  tableau  of    love  was  ruthlessly  interrupted. 

"  Hi,  who  dat — w'at  yer  doin'  de'er?  Dat  you,  Cyn- 
thy,  lettin'  dat  nasty  nigger  er  kissin'  yer  in  de  dark? 
Ain't  yer  'shame?     I'se  g'wine  ter  tell." 

To  his  horror  and  dismay,  Carlos  saw  that  the  unbid- 
den spectator  was  no  one  else  than  his  other  flame, 
Minty.  To  have  been  caught  by  any  one,  under  these 
circumstances,  was  embarrassing  enough,  but  by  this 
girl,  was  simply  dreadful.  To  her  he  had  been  swear- 
ing eternal  love  and  devotion  in  the  most  ardent  style, 
for  months  ;  and  the  unlucky  chance  that  brought  her 
there,  just  in  time  to  witness  his  infidelity  with  her  own 
eyes,  was  simply  too  great  a  strain  on  his  self-posses- 
sion. This  was  one  of  the  few  times  in  his  life  when  his 
tongue  failed  to  come  promptly  to  his  rescue ;  so,  re- 
leasing his  companion,  he  fell  back,  too  much  confused 
to  utter  a  w^ord.  This,  however,  was  not  the  case  with 
Cynthy,  whose  modesty  was  backed  up  and  supported  by 
the  consciousness  of  haviug  won  a  victory  over  a  scorn- 
ful rival,  towards  whom  she  had  been  feeling  a  strong, 
though  secret  animosity.  Carlos  would  have  preferred 
any  other  spectator,  while  she  rejoiced  that  it  turned  out 
to  be  Minty. 

''  You  shet  up,  and  tend  ter  yer  own  bizness — yers 
jist  er  wishin'  it  wer  you." 

Hot  words  and  abusive  epithets  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession from  both  parties,  and  before  Carlos  had  recov- 
ered his  wits  sufficiently  to  interfere,  a  blow  was  given, 
and  the  two  rivals  hitched  in  dead  earnest.  In  vain  he 
capered  around,  begging  them  to  "  stop  dat  racket," 
and  "  fur  de  good  Lawd's  sake,  quit  dair  blamed  fool- 
ishness ;"  their  anger  and  jealousy  had  become  fully 
aroused,  and  his  presence  and  efforts  only  added  fuel  to 
the  flames.  Like  two  knights  of  "  ye  olden  time," 
fighting  for  the  favor  of  some  fair  lady  (only  this  time 
the  sexes  were  reversed)  these  two  dusky  amazons  "went 
at  it  tooth  and  toe  nail ;"  and  discarding  all  weapons 
save  those  that  nature  had  given  them,  for  the  next  min- 
ute or  two  they  made   the   fur   fly   in   regular   wild-cat 


BELLEVIE^r*  195 

style.  Cjmthy's  past  acquaintance  with  the  hoe-handle 
and  cotton-basket,  which  she  had  so  scornfully  repudi- 
ated only  a  short  time  before,  now  proved  to  have  been 
of  valuable  service,  rendering  her  more  than  a  match 
for  her  more  effeminate  sister ;  who,  finding  herself 
worsted  in  the  fight,  raised  a  howl,  which  soon  brought 
quite  a  crowd  of  young  darkies  to  the  spot. 
•  "  Ycr  yaller-hided  hussy,  I  kin  jist  whip  de  lites  out 
er  yer  de  bes'  day  ye  eber  seed,"  cried  Cynthy,  shaking 
her  solid-looking  fist  in  the  face  of  her  vanquished  rival. 
"  Jist  bat  er  eye, 'n' I'll  mash  yer  punkin-cullud  face 
til  yer  own  mammy  won't  know  3'er." 

But  Minty  did  not  accept  this  challenge.  She  had 
had  enough,  and  felt  the  expediency  of  selecting  some 
other  object  on  which  to  vent  her  spite  and  mortification. 
Naturally,  that  other  object  was  Carlos — he  had  proven 
a  double-dyed  traitor.  Not  only  had  he  been  false  to 
his  vows,  but  he  had  also  inflicted  a  great  indignity  on 
her,  personall}^  by  giving  her,  as  a  rival,  one  whom  she 
considered  far  below  her  in  social  status.  In  addition 
to  this,  in  the  late  conflict,  he  failed  to  render  her  the 
assistance  she  expected,  and  to  which  she  felt  that  she 
was  entitled ;  consequently,  he  was  the  victim  she  se- 
lected. 

"  AY'at's  all  dis  he'er  cuttin'  up  erbout?  "  inquired  an 
athletic  young  negro,  about  grown,  from  the   crowd. 

"  Why,  dis  he'er  nasfy,  low-down  nigger  ub  de  Mar- 
tins,' 's  been  'sultin  me,  and  er — and  er  Cynthy  tuk  he's 
part,"  she  answered,  edging  nearer  the  last  speaker,  and 
further  away  from  Cynthy's  dangerous-looking  fist. 
This  new  boy,  she  knew,  was  one  of  her  ardent  admir- 
ers, and  consequently  did  not  regard  Carlos  with  a  very 
friendly  eye.  Here  was  an  able  champion  who  would 
gladly  undertake  to  redress  her  wrongs. 

*' Wat  he  do?" 

"  He  er — he  er — he  er  tried  ter  hug  'n'  kiss  me  in  de 
dark,"  she  cried,  her  rage  and  thirst  for  revenge  making 
her  capable  of  any  falsehood  that  might  produce  the  de- 
sired result,  regardless  of  what  might  be  the  after  con- 
sequences. 

"  Dat's  er  lie,"  cried  Cynthy;  but  her  words  were 
drowned  by  the  exclamations  of  disapproval  from  the 
crowd. 

"  Well,   I'se   de   man   w'at  kin   k'rect  de   low-lived 


196  CARLOS  AND  THE  PATROLERS. 

skunk.     Wat  yer  mean,  yer   yaller  pole-cat,  er  comin* 
onter  clis  be'er  hill,  er  'sultin'  one  ub  ower  ladies?" 

"  Yer  le'me  'loue,  and  min' yer  own  bizness,"  an- 
swered Carlos,  with  spirit,  considering  his  undesu'able 
position. 

''Hi !  dat  de  way  yer  talk,  eh?    Yer 

,  I'll   soon  mak'   yer   sing    er  nudder  tune. 

Git  'roun'  'im,  dar,  you  fellars,  so  he   can't   run,  'n'  jist 
watch  me  skin  'im  erlive." 

But  Carlos  did  not  wait  for  the  skinning,  nor  for  the 
effect  of  Cynthy's  expostulations  in  his  behalf.  He  saw 
that  the  Belleview  Quarter  was  no  place  for  him  just 
then,  if  he  wanted  to  remain  healthy,  so,  slipping  past 
their  outstretched  hands,  he  took  to  his  heels,  with  the 
crowd  in  noisy  pursuit.  Their  "ketch  'im — ketch.de 
yaller  dog,"  added  wings  to  his  feet,  and  he  soon  proved, 
that  when  the  occasion  demanded  it,  he  was  as  expert 
at  running  as  he  was  at  love-making.  In  order  to  more 
quickly  rid  himself  of  his  pursuers,  he  took  the  shortest 
cut,  by  the  house  lot,  and  across  the  lawn,  to  the  pub- 
lic road  ;  and  such  good  use  did  he  make  of  his  legs, 
that  by  the  time  he  neared  the  highway  he  had  managed 
to  leave  them  several  yards  in  the  rear. 

His  adventures  for  the  night,  however,  were  not  over, 
as  he  soon  found  to  his  sorrow  and  dismay. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CARLOS   AND   THE   PATROLERS. 

Panting  from  the  exertion  of  his  race,  Carlos 
jumped  over  the  fence  that  divided  the  lawn  from  the 
road,  congratulating  himself  on  having  so  safely  escaped 
the  threatened  flagellation ;  but  scarcely  had  his  feet 
touched  the  ground,  when  his  ears  were  greeted  with  the 
command:  "  Stop— halt,"  from  several  voices.  One 
glance  was  sufficient  to  show  him  the  terrible  truth, 
that  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  dreaded  '<•  pat- 
terolers."  To  nm  again  was  entirely  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, for  in  his  blown  condition  he  could  not  hope  to 
compete  with  the  swiftness  of  their  horses ;  besides, 
they  were  already  surrounding  him  on  all   sides.     If  he 


BELLEVIEW.  197 

escaped  a  ^^hipping  this  time,  it  must  be  through  the 
means  of  his  ready  wit  and  tongue,  and  not  by  the 
agency  of  his  heels. 

"  Who  is  this?  "  demanded  the  one  who  appeared  to 
be  the  leader. 

''It's  ownly  me,  Massa." 

"  The  hell  it  is.     Whose  me — what's  your  name?  " 

By  this  time  Carlos  had  recognized  two  or  three  of 
the  party,  and  saw  it  would  not  do  to  represent  himself 
as  belonging  to  Colonel  Cachet,  which  had  been  his 
first  idea.  So,  placing  as  good  a  face  on  the  matter  as 
possible,  he  answered,  with  an  assumption  of  candor : 

"  Carlos,  sir.     I  b'longs  to  Mr.  Martin." 

''Ah,  I  thought  I  knew  you.  Well,  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

"Jist   been   to   de   Colonel's   quarter,    sir,  on   some 

biz ,"  he  started  to  say   on   some   business   for   his 

mistress,  but  remembered  her  injunction  of  secrecy  in 
time  to  check  himself  ;  "  ter  see  some  uv  his  darkies," 
he  substituted. 

"  Ah  ha  !  running  around  at  night,  eh?  " 

"  Don't  have  much  to  do  in  the  day-time,  and  makes 
it  up  by  romping  all  over  the  country  at  night,"  inter- 
rupted another. 

"  Yes — he's  one  of  old  man  Martin's  pets,"  spoke 
up  a  third,  "  and  never,  in  all  his  life,  knew  what  a 
good  whippin*  was." 

"  He  jist  orter  b'long  to  me,"  said  the  fourth,  who, 
t>y  the  way,  never  owned  a  slave.  "  Yer  can  jist  bet 
yer  bottom  dollar,  boys,  he'd  mi'ty  soon  fin'  out  what  er 
good  larrup  in'  were." 

Carlos  shuddered  from  head  to  foot,  as  he  recognized 
the  speaker  as  being  one  of  the  despised  and  hated 
"  po'  buckra."  "  When  I  got  thru  er  workin'  o'  him, 
he'd  be  so  all-fired  tired  at  night,  he  couldn't  run  no- 
whars,"  continued  the  same  speaker,  who  was  known  as 
"  Old  Man  Wicker." 

"  Mr.  Martin  is  not  at  home — gone  on  a  trip  to 
Charlestown — and  this  boy  is  taking  advantage  of  his 
absence  to  visit  other  plantations,  where  the  niggers 
don't  have  such  an  easy  time,  making  them  dissatisfied 
with  their  own  lot.  I  think  he's  a  good  subject  for  our 
hickories." 


198  CARLOS    AXt)   THE    PATHOLERS. 

"Oh!  please,  sii,  don't — don't  whip  me  dis  thue. 
Missus — missus  sod  I  might  go." 

"Well,  if  3^ou  have  got  a  pass,"  said  the  leader, 
' '  why  don't  j^ou  hand  it  out  ?  You  know  we  won't  whip 
you,  if  3'ou've  got  one." 

"  Han'  out  yer  pass,  nigger,"  again  interposed 
Wicker.  "  What  yer  standin'  dere  a  tremblin'  like  yer 
got  a  buck  ager  for,  if  j^er  got  a  pass  ?  " 

"I — I  ain't  got  er  pass,"  stammered  the  boy.  "  She 
sed  I  wouldn't  need  it." 

"  Too  thin,  my  boy — that  tale  won't  do." 

"  Nary  time  will  it,  yer  lyin',  yaller  coon.  Der  ye 
see  eny  green  thar?"  queried  the  poor  buckra,  pulling 
down  one  corner  of  his  eye-lid,  unmindful  of  the  fact 
that  the  moon  was  furnishing  the  only  light.  This  pro- 
duced a  laugh  all  around,  with  "  Hurrah  for  you,  old 
man,"  from  one  or  two. 

"  I  'clare,  'pon  my  soul,  Massa  Smith,  I'se  tellin'  yer 
de  truf,"  pleaded  Carlos,  desperately.  Already,  in  im- 
agination, he  could  feel  the  tough  hickory  sprouts  beat- 
ing a  tattoo  over  his  shoulders. 

"That  won't  do,  Carlos,"  answered  Smith.  "I'm 
sorry  for  you,  but  you  know  well  enough  that  you  have 
no  business  away  from  home  after  dark  without  a  pass. 
If  your  mistress  was  willing  for  you  to  go,  she  could 
very  easily  have  written  j^ou  one." 

"  Oh,  sir,  ef  yer'll  jist  go  home  wid  me — it  ain't  but 
er  short  piece — she'll  tell  yer  so  herse'f." 

"  Look  he'er,  yer  d d  nigger,  what  j^er  givin'    us? 

Yer  know  j^er  can  beg  off  from  her,  but  I  tells  yer  what, 
boss  fly,  yer's  struck  de  wrong  crowd  fur  once.  Boys, 
I  wants  de  job  of  k'recttin'  dis  feller,"  and  Wicker 
climbed  down  from  his  horse,  rubbing  his  hands  with 
anticipated  enjoyment.  Whipping  a  negro  was  a  lux- 
ury that  did  not  often  fall  to  his  share,  and  conse- 
quently was  enjoyed  in  proportion.  "  Jist  le'  me  dress 
'im  down  once  'n'  I'll  bet  he  won't  be  kotched  away 
from  home  in  er  hurry." 

"  Oh  !  Massa  Smith,  don't  le'  me  be  whip't.  I's  tel- 
lin' yer  de  truf — 'fo'  God,  I  is.  Oh !  please — please 
don't — for  de  Lud  a  Massy  sakes,  le'  me  go  dis  time." 

To  this  appeal,  Mr.  Smith  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  sorry,  Carlos,  but  there  would  be  no  use  in  our 
taking  the  trouble  of  riding   over   the   neighborhood   at 


BELLEVIEW,  199 

night,  if  we  did  not  punish  those  we  caught   away  from 
home  without  a  pass." 

The  person  was  right  who  said  that  Carlos  did  not 
know  what  a  good  whipping  was,  but  this  ignorance  did 
not  prevent  him  from  growing  desperate  now,  when  he 
thouglit  of  what  Avas  in  store  for  his  back  at  the  hands 
of  the  hated  "  poor  buckra."  He  glanced  nervously 
around  for  some  avenue  of  escape,  but  his  captors  had 
him  too  completel}^  surrounded  for  any  chance  in  that 
direction.  Having  quickly  run  over  the  probabilities  in 
his  mind,  in  despair  he  turned  again  to  the  leader. 

"  Massa  Smith,  if  I'se  got  to  be  whip't,  please,  sir, 
do  it  yerse'f,"  and  adding  in  a  low  tone,  "  You'se  got 
niggers,  'n'  hes  some  feelin'  fer  'em,  but  dat  ole  po' 
buckra  will  jist  mi'ty  nigh  kill  me." 

"I  don't  want  the  job,  Carlos,  but  I  reckon  as  j^ou 
ask  it,  I'll  have  to  grant  your  request,"  said  Smith,  get- 
ting down  off  his  horse.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
that  the  chastisement  should  be  moderate,  andknev/  that 
it  would  not  do  to  let  Wicker  be  master  of  ceremonies. 
"  I  reckon,  Wicker,  that  I  had  better  officiate  this  time. 
Draw  your  jacket,  Carlos." 

Grumbling  out  something  about  his  proficiency  in  the 
art  of  "  krecttin'  niggers,"  Wicker  reluctantly  surren- 
dered the  bunch  of  hickory  sprouts.  He  was  evidently 
deeply  chagrined  that  the  cup  of  pleasure  should  be 
snatched  from  his  lips  just  as  he  was  about  to  regale 
himself  with  its  contents  ;  still,  the  next  greatest  treat 
to  "  whippin'  er  nigger"  himself,  was  standing  by  and 
seeing  it  done  by  another.  So  his  prospect  for  amuse- 
ment was  not  entirely  obliterated,  only  circumscribed  in 
extent. 

Selecting  one  of  the  smallest — which  itself  looked 
quite  formidable  in  the  eyes  of  the  trembling  victim — 
from  the  bundle.  Smith  handed  the  others  to  one  of  his 
assistants,  and  squaring  himself  in  line,  he  raised  his 
implement  of  torture,  preparatory  to  beginning  the  pun- 
ishment, but  before  the  first  lick  was  given,  his  attention 
was  attracted  by  the  soft  fall  of  a  horse's  footstep  on 
the  sandy  road  as  another  person  rode  up. 

"Hello  !     What's  up?  "  called  out  the  newcomer. 

"Is  that  you.  Doctor?" 

"  Yes.     What's  the  matter — what  are  you  doing?" 


200  CARLOS    AND    THE    PATROLET??. 

"  \re  are  about  to  whip  a  boy  we  have  canght  away 
from  home  without  a  pass." 

"Whose  boy  is  he?" 

"  He  belongs  to  Mvc  Martin — Carlos  is  his  name." 

''Why,  Carlos,  how  is  this — how  came  you  into  such 
a  scrape  ?  " 

Dr.  Hurst's  well  known  voice  brought  a  revival  of 
hope  to  the  despairing  bo3^  Almost  unconscious  of  the 
movement,  he  edged  nearer,  exclaiming  vehemently : 

"  Oh,  Massa  Doctor,  save  me — fer  de  good  awd  a 
massy  sake,  keep  'em  from  whippin'  de  poor  boy,  'n'  I'll 
never  forgit  it,  de  longes'  day  1  live." 

*'  What  are  you  doing  out  here  without  a  pass?"  asked 
the  doctor,  sternly,  but  not  unkindh\  "  It  doesn't  look 
well  for  you  to  be  running  about  at  night,  especially 
now,  when  your  master  is  away  from  home." 

"  Miss  Ellen — Missus  knows  it.  She  told  me — she 
told  me  I  could  go."  Even  in  his  direst  extremity,  the 
poor  boy  was  still  faithful  to  his  mistress's  injunction, 
and  would  not  even  sa}^  that  she  sent  him.  "  Gen'- 
men,  I'se  tellin'  you  de  truf — I  swear  to  God,  I  is  ;  'n' 
if  3^er  don't  b'lieve  me,  jist  take  me  home,  'n'  ef  she 
don't  say  so  herse'f ,  yer  may  wear  eb'ry  one  ub  dem 
switches  to  er  fruzzl'  on  my  naked  back." 

"  He  persists  in  saying  that  he  has  his  mistress'  per- 
mission to  go  to  the  Colonel's  quarter,  but  it  is  strange 
that  she  did  not  give  him  a  pass,"  explained  Mr. 
Smith. 

''Maybe  she  didn't  know  th.:\t  you  patiolers  had  com- 
menced riding  again." 

"  Notices  to  that  effect  have  been  posted  for  the  last 
week." 

"Yes,  but  it  is  not  likely  that  she  has  seen,  or  no- 
ticed any  of  them,  and  Squire  ^Martin  may  have  forgotten 
to  mention  it  before  he  left.  She  may  have  thought  that 
as  the  distance  was  short  he  would  not  need  a  pass." 

"  TJiere  migiit  be  something  in  that,"  assented  Smith, 
"but  he  was  acting  rather  ^suspiciously  when  we  caught 
him." 

"How  was  that?" 

''  Why,  he  came  tearing  across  the  Colonel's  lawn, 
tiiere,  as  if  the  very  old  scratch  was  after  him." 

"  What  were  you  doing,  Carlos?"  the   doctor   asked 


BELLE  VIEW.  201 

of  the  boy,  who,  by  this  time,  had   edged   to  his   side, 
and  was  holding  fast  to  his  stirrup. 

"  I  wus— I " 

"  Speak  out — the  best  way  is  to  tell  the  truth.'* 

"  I  wus  er  running  from  some  ub  de  Gachet  nigger 
boys — dey  was  wantin'  to  whip  me." 

''  AVhat  did  they  want  to  whip  j^ou  about?" 

Carlos  hesitated,  twisting  his  fingers  together,  and 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  either  from  embarrassment,  or 
through  fear  of  the  switch  in  Smith's  hands,  and  from 
which  his  eyes  never  wandered  long  at  a  time. 

''  Out  with  it,  my  boy,"  urged  the  doctor,  kindly. 
"  Tell  the  truth,  and  it  will  be  better  for  you  in  the 
end." 

"  I — I  kis't  one  ob  de  Gachet  nigger  gals,"  he  at 
length  blurted  out  desperately,  ''and  dey — dey  kicked 
up  er  rumpus  'bout  it." 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  this  confession — all  the 
crowd  joining  in  except  Wicker,  who  was  too  much  dis- 
gusted with  the  delay  in  producing  the  masterpiece  of 
the  evening's  performance,  to  find  any  amusement  in 
what  he  regarded  as  an  irrelevant  and  unnecessary  by. 
play.  '' Wat's  de  yuse  in  axin'  sich  questions?"  he 
muttered  to  himself,  "  we'se  kotched  the  nigger  V  mout 
as  well  finish  up  de  job." 

After  putting  a  few  more  questions  to  the  boy,  con- 
cerning his  unfortunate  piece  of  gallantry,  the  answers 
to  which  tended  to  increase  the  party's  merriment. 
Dr.  Hurst  turned  again  to  Smith. 

''  I  expect  he  is  telling  the  truth.  Carlos  has  always 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  good  boy,  and,  if  you  are  willing, 
I  will  take  him  home  and  explain  the  matter  to  Mrs. 
Martin,  as  I  am  going  by  there.  If  he  is  telling  a  lie, 
no  doubt  Mr.  Martin  will  punish  him  when  he  gets 
back." 

'' Tm  willing,"  readily  assented  the  leader.  'What 
say  you,  boys  ?" 

The  laugh  had  put  the  patrolers— with  the  exception 
of  "W icker— in  a  good  humor,  and  the  chorus  of  "all 
right"  was  unbroken,  except  by  his   grumbling  dissent. 

"  I  don't  see  no  yuse  in  gwine  a  patterrollin' ,"  he 
muttered,  as  he  climbed  into  his  saddle  to  follow  his 
companions,  "  if  yer  don't  whip  der  niggers  ye  ketch. 
1  can't  see  what  makes  some  folks   so  d~  squamish 


202  CARLOS  AND  THE  PATBOLERS, 

'bout  'krecttin'  de  critters,  nohowo  De  Doct.  thar,  is 
mi'ty  nigh  es  bad  es 'n' out 'n'  out  black  Hepublicau." 
His  discontent,  however,  did  not  affect  the  result,  and 
he  was  forced  to  be  content  with  hope  of  better  luck 
next  timco  It  was  a  fortunate  fact,  he  thought,  that 
Dr.  Hurst  could  not  follow  them  in  their  rounds.  If  he 
did,  they  "  moutas  well  go  home." 

"  I  will  not  disturb  j^our  mistress  to-night,  but  will  see 
her  to-morrow,  maybe,"  said  the  Doctor,  when  he  and 
his  charge  reached  Mr.  Martin's  gate.  The  eager  and 
confident  manner  in  which  the  boy  had  clung  to  his 
side  during  the  short  distance,  tended  to  confirm  his  be- 
lief in  the  truth  of  his  story,  and  he  did  not  consider 
the  matter  of  doubt  sufficiently  strong  to  demand  an  im- 
mediate investigation. 

'*  Take  warning  by  to-night's  experience,"  he  added, 
as  he  rode  away,  interrupting  the  boy's  profuse  thanks, 
''and  don't  let  the  patrolers  catch  you  out  at  night 
again  without  a  pass  ;"  advice  AYhich,  in  his  heart,  Car- 
los determined  henceforth  to  strictly  follow. 

The  latter  did  not  seek  the  presence  of  his  mistress 
that  night — he  was  too  much  crtstf  alien  with  the  out- 
come of  his  night's  adventures.  His  proud  boast,  that 
"  No  patterrollers  kin  ketch  dis  nigger,"  had  been  too 
overwhelmingly  refuted  for  him  to  feel  like  making  his 
report  until  a  night's  rest  had  in  somewise  restored  his 
equanimity.  It  was  true  that  he  had  accomplished  his 
mission,  securing  the  information  she  desired  without, 
in  the  least,  betraying  his  object ;  but  while  doing  so, 
his  self-love  had  received  quite  a  mortifying  check,  as 
well  as  his  feelings  being  lacerated  by  a  most  harrowing 
fright.  In  addition  to  all  this,  by  an  act  of  exuberant 
folly,  he  had  brought  on  a  combat  between  two  of  his 
dusky  flames,  thereby  cutting  short  his  social  visits  to 
the  Gachet  quarter ;  and  moreover,  as  he  thought,  had 
forever  ruined  his  chances  with  the  particular  one 
whose  heart  and  good  opinion  he  had  been  for  some  time 
sedulously  trying  to  win.  Therefore,  in  the  face  of  aU 
these  disheartening  results,  it  was  no  wonder  that  he 
should  feel  the  need  of  some  hours  of  reposing  slum- 
ber before  recounting  his  tale.  Consequently,  avoiding' 
that  part  of  the  house  whose  lighted  windows  denoteo 
that  Mrs.  Martin  and  Elma  were  still  awake,  he  crepi^ 
round   to   his   bed   in  the   kitchen,  anathematizing   hi» 


BELLEVIEW.  '     203 

Inck,  his  belligerent  sweethearts,  and  officious  rival;  the 
patrolers,  and  the  old  business. 

So  effectual  were  the  ministrations  of  Morpheus,  in 
calming  and  reassuring  his  spirits,  that  next  morning, 
in  making  his  report,  he  was  enabled  to  suppress  that  part 
of  his  adventures  least  credible  to  his  fidelity  in  love 
matters.  To  the  rest  of  his  story  he  appended  so  many 
additions  and  embellishments  as  to  excite  in  his  mistress, 
first,  an  exhibition  of  mirth  over  a  ludicrous  scene  in 
the  quarter,  the  better  part  of  which  was  imaginary ; 
secondl}^,  almost  a  tear  of  pity  and  regret  over  his 
cruel  position  in  the  hands  of  the  patrolers,  whose 
threats  and  proceedings,  particularly  those  of  "  De  poor 
buckra,"  were  highly  embellished,  and  thirdl}^,  a  feeling 
of  the  greatest  gratitude  towards  Dr.  Hurst,  for  saving 
her  favorite  servant  from  the  effects  of  her  own  care- 
lessness. 

"  You  are  a  smart  boy,  Carlos.  I  am  well  pleased 
with  the  successful  manner  in  T\hich  j^ou  executed  your 
mission,  and  the  first  opportunity  I  have,  I  shall  thank 
Dr.  Hurst  for  his  interference  in  your  behalf.  The  next 
time  I  send  you  out  that  way,  I  will  be  certain  to  write 
you  a  pass,  so  that  you'll  run  no  danger  of  a  whip- 
ping." 

So  Carlos,  grinning  with  satisfaction  at  these  words 
of  commendation,  retired,  consoling  himself  with  the 
thought,  that  if  Minty  refused  to  be  pacified,  there  were 
still  plenty  of  good  fish  in  the  sea,  and,  with  his  dexter- 
ity as  a  fisherman,  her  place  could  be  easily  supplied ; 
while  Mrs.  Mailin  hastened  to  impart  to  Elma  the  in- 
formation he  had  procured. 

"  Now,  what  do  you  think  of  that?  "  she  exclaimed  in 
triumph,  when  through. 

The  other  still  doubtingly  shook  her  head. 

"It  is  hard  for  me  to  believe  that  Leon  Gachet 
would  do  such  a  thing — it  is  not  consistent  with  his 
character." 

The  good  lady  was  worried »  The  e^ndence  seemed  so 
plain  and  conclusive  to  her  mind,  that  she  could  not  see 
how  one,  who  was  more  directly  interested  thfin  herself, 
even,  in  fixing  the  crime  where  it  belonged,  should  still 
doubt  his  guilt. 

"  It  all  seems  as  plain  to  me  as  the  nose  on  your  face," 
she  answered,  impatiently. 


204  LEON   RECEIVES   HIS   ANSWER. 

*'  I  know  the  circumstances  all  point  to  him,  but  there 
must  be  some  mistake — I  can't  believe  he  wrote  that 
forged  note." 

''Well,  we'll  see  what  Major  Dismuke*s  Lum  has  to 
say  about  it.  I  will  find  some  excuse  to  send  Carlos 
down  to  the  Major's  river  plantation  at  once.  To  sat- 
isfy 3^ou,  I  will  try  to  get  him  out  here,  where  you  can 
hear  what  he  has  to  say  himself.  Maybe  he  has  rice, 
or  goobers,  or  something  of  the  kind  he  would  like  to 
sell — Carlos  can  get  up  some  excuse  to  bring  him  here 
to-morrow,  or  Sunday." 

"  No,  I  would  rather  you  didn't — it  is  not  necessary 
to  go  to  all  that  trouble." 

"  You  wish  to  drop  the  matter  as  it  is,  then?"  Mrs. 
Martin  inquired,  with  surprise,  disappointment,  and  in- 
dignation, all  three  expressed  in  her  voice  and  face. 

"  No.  I  shall  not  let  it  drop  here — I  shall  find  out 
the  truth  in  a  different  way." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

LEON  RECEIVES    HIS  ANSWER. 

Mr.  Martin  finished  up  his  business  in  Charleston, 
and  returned  home  on  the  appointed  day.  On  the  same 
afternoon  Johnnie  had  the  pleasure  of  driving  Elma  out 
to  Belleview,  where  she  no  sooner  arrived  than  she  has- 
tened up-stairs,  as  if  to  avoid  Leon's  adoring  glances. 
The  latter  made  no  attempt  to  hide  from  his  step-mother 
and  sister  the  satisfaction  which  the  event  gave  him ; 
and  why  should  he  ?  he  thought,  when  they  were  both 
fully  apprised  of  his  intention  to  make  Elma  his  wife. 
This  night  she  should  give  him  the  promised  answer, 
which  his  egotism,  notwithstanding  some  moments  of 
doubt  and  uneasiness,  assured  him  would  be  "yes;" 
and  then,  as  a  matter  of  course,  they  must  know  of  the 
engagement. 

When  bidding  adieu  to  Johnnie  at  the  gate,  Elma  had 
added':  "  Remember,  now,  bright  and  early  in  the  morn- 
ing," and  no  sooner  did  Mollie  join  her  in  the  room  they 
had  always  occupied  together,  than  she  announced  her 
intention  of  making  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Harris  in  Macon. 


BELLEVIEW.  205 

"  "Won't  yon  go  with  me  ?  "  she  asked.  "I  have  writ- 
ten her  that  1  would  come  to-morrow,  and  that  probably 
you  would  accompany  me." 

''  Isn't  this  a  rather  sudden  trip,  Elma?  '* 
"  You  know  I  intended  going  this — sometime  soon." 
"  Yes — in  the  sprhig,  but  not  so  soon  as  this.     When 
did  you  change  3^0 ur  mind  ?  " 

'*  Now  will  suit  me  better  than  later,"  she    answered, 

evasivel3^     ' '  Now  get  ready,  like  a   good   girl,  and   go 

along  with  me  to-morrow."  ; 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  ready — besides,  I  can't  leave   mother 

until  father  comes  home.     Wait  until   then,  and   I   will 

go-" 

Elma  declined  to  postpone  the  trip  ;  neither  did  she 
press  her  friend  to  change  her  decision,  but  clasping  one 
of  Mollie's  hands  in  both  her  own,  gazed  long  and 
thoughtfully  out  of  the  window.  At  length,  pressing 
the  hand  she  had  imprisoned  with  unusual  warmth,  she 
murmured,  as  if  to  herself,  "  Dearest  little  friend,  how 
I  hate  to  part  with  you." 

"  Don't  go  then,  Elma.     Wait  until  next  month." 

"  Oh,  I  must,"  was  the  half-whispered  reply,  arousing 
herself  from  the  momentary  reverie. 

Mollie  slipped  her  disengaged  arm  around  her  friend's 
waist. 

"  What  is  it,  Elma — what  is  troubling  you?  Won't 
,  you  tell  me  ?  I  have  noticed  for  some  time  that  some- 
thing was  wrong." 

There  were  tears  threatened,  both  in  El  ma's  voice,  as 
well  as  eyes  ;  still  the  answer  she  gave  was  not  candid, 
and  Mollie  knew  it. 

"  You  see  how  much  it  hurts  me  to  part  from  my  dear 
little  sister." 

''  That  is  not  the  troul)le — it  is  something  worse  than 
that — something  that  you  wish  to  hide.  I  can  guess 
what  it  is,  although  you  won't  tell  mo." 

''  What  could  be  worse  than  separation  from  the  only 
little  sister  I  ever  had  ?  "  persisted  the  other,  somewhat 
uneasily,  forcing  a  smile. 

"  You  have  a  gi*eater  trouble  than  that,  I  know,  for 
you  can  easily  avoid  that  one  by  staying  at  home  ;  be- 
sides, even  if  you  will  go,  the  separation  would  only  be 
for  a  short  time." 

**  But  it  might  be  longer  than  you  think.     Something 


206  LEON    RECEIVES    HIS    ANSWER. 

might  occur — might  come   between  us — that  would  part 
us  for  good." 

"  How  could  that  be,  Elma?  " 

''  Oh,  something  might  happen  that  would  estrange  j'ou 
from  me — that  would  cost  me  3'our  love." 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  but  you  are  mistaken — you 
do  me  an  injustice.  I  know  that  Brother  either  has,  or 
intends  to  address  you,  and  that  you  will  reject  him. 
You  do  not  love  him,  and  you  do  love  some  one  else. 
I'm  sorry  for  him,  but  that  need  not  make  any  difference- 
with  us.  I  know  you  can't  help  it.  AVe  will  always  be 
good  friends  and  sisters,  notwithstanding  all  that." 

Elma's  only  reply  was  a  kiss,  given  more  impulsively 
than  Mollie  had  ever  experienced  from  her  before.  But 
the  latter  was  not  satisfied.  Her  friendship  was  not  only 
strong  enough  to  pardon  her  brother's  rejection,  but  also 
prompted  a  desire  to  assist,  if  possible  ;  and  at  any  rate, 
to  console  her  friend  in  her  other  trouble. 

"I  also  believe,"  she  continued,  "  that  some  trouble 
has  come  between  you  and  the  one  you  do  love.  What  it 
is  I  can't  imagine,  and  you  won't  make  me  a  confidante  as 
I  do  you.  If  you  would,  possibl}^  I  could  help  you.  You 
ought,  at  least,  to  feel  certain  of  my  s^mipathy." 

"  Oh,  you  must  not  know — you  must  not  think  any- 
thing of  the  kind,"  she  answered,  changing  what  she 
started  to  say  with  almost  an  appearance  of  alarm.  ''  You 
must  not  give  so  loose  a  rein  to  j^our  imagination  as  to 
suppose  that  I  have  any  other  trouble  than  being  sepa- 
rated from  you.  Ah,  there  is  the  tea-bell ;  you  must  not 
keep  your  mother  waiting." 

Mollie  turned  reluctantly  away  to  answer  the  summons, 
by  seeing  that  the  supper-table  was  properly  arranged,  a 
duty  that  had  been  delegated  to  her  of  late  by  her  mother. 
Elma's  evasions  did  not  cause  her  to  change  the  opinion 
she  had  formed,  and  she  could  not  help  feeling  hurt  and 
disappointed  at  the  want  of  confidence  that  her  friend  ex- 
hibited. Scarcel}^  had  she  left  the  room,  when  Elma's 
self-restraint  gave  way,  and  l)owing  her  head  on  the  v>'in- 
dow-sill,  found  momentary  relief  in  tears.  This  self-in- 
dulgence, however,  was  short,  as  a  little  later  she  joined 
the  other  three  at  supper,  with  no  visible  signs  of  her 
late  emotion,  unless  it  was  a  slight  redness  of  the  cheeks 
and  a  more  than  usual  brilliancy  in  her  eyes.  Leon 
watched  her  with  glowing  admu-ation,  placing  a  favorable 


BELLEVIEW.  207 

construction  for  his  own  hopes  on  the  extra  flush  and 
sparkle.  Some  extra  care  that  she  had  taken  in  her  dress 
was  interpreted  by  his  egotism  in  the  same  way.  "She 
has  determined  to  accept  me,"  he  thought,  "  and  wishes 
to  increase  my  appreciation  of  the  prize  I  have  won. 
That  is  why  she  claimed  the  week's  delay,  thinking 
by  a  show  of  hesitation  to  enhance  her  value  in  my  eyes. 
Very  good,  my  beauty,  but  this  night  you  shall  say  the 
final  word." 

In  accordance  with  this  resolution,  soon  after  supper 
he  invited  her  in  the  parlor,  under  the  excuse  of  wanting 
to  hear  a  new  song  that  she  had  lately  learned.  Without  a 
word  she  accepted  the  invitation,  and  taking  a  seat  at  the 
instrument,  rendered  the  song  in  brilliant  style.  She 
finished  the  first,  and  had  begun  the  prelude  of  another, 
when  he  stopped  her. 

"  That  will  do — it  is  not  music  that  I  want  now." 

" My  singing  did  not  please  you,  then?"  Her  voice 
was  clear,  firm,  and  perfectly  modulated ;  her  eyes  as 
bright  as  ever,  but  all  color  had  left  her  cheeks. 

"  It  is  not  that,"  h_  answered,  eagerly  ;  "  you  know  I 
always  enjoy  your  music  more  than  any  one's ;  but  I 
want  something  else  now — I  want  that  answer  you  prom- 
ise<l  me  a  week  ago.     Elma — my  love — my  jewel " 

One  hand  dropped  from  the  ivory  kej^s  to  a  pocket  in 
the  folds  of  her  dress — her  breathing  quickened  slightly, 
but  there  was  no  other  change.  Drawing  still  nearer, 
he  continued  : 

"  I  cannot  wait  any  longer — the  suspense  is  bej^ond 
endurance.  Do  not  tantalize  me  any  further.  Only  say 
tliat  you  will  be  mine — that  you  will  accept  the  heart  that 
adores  you.  Give  me  only  one  word — one  sign — that 
will  make  me  the  happiest  of  living  mortals."  He  en- 
deavored to  slip  an  arm  around  her  waist,  but  before  the 
act  was  accomplished,  she  sprung  to  her  feet  and  glided 
beyond  his  reach. 

"  Will  you  answer  me  one  question  first?  "she  de- 
manded, in  the  clearest  of  bell-like  tones. 

He  stopped  in  surprise,  but  showed  no  hesitation  in 
asking  what  question  she  Avanted  answered.  In  chang- 
ing her  position,  she  had  placed  the  corner  of  the  piano 
between  them,  and  on  this  he  rested  one  hand  while 
waiting  her  reply. 

"  What  did  you  do  with  those   flowers   that  were  sent 


208  LEON   RECEIVES   HIS   ANSWER. 

me  by — by  a  friend  some  three  weeks  ago,  and  which 
were  left  in  your  charge  by  the  messenger?  "  The  break 
in  her  sentence,  caused  by  the  substitution  of  the  phrase 
"  a  friend  "  in  place  of  the  donor's  name,  did  not  in  any 
wise  lessen  the  sharp  distinctness  of  her  words.  His 
sallow  cheeks  flushed  a  little,  but  his  answer  was  prompt 
enough : 

' '  I  sent  them  back  to  the  presumptuous  fool  who  dared 
to  take  such  a  liberty,  as  I  should  have  done." 

''  And  the  note  which  accompanied  them?  " 

*'  I  burnt  it." 

''  After  reading  what  was  not  intended  for  your  eyes?  " 

"No;  I  did  not  read  it." 

Remembering  the  contradictor}^  testimony  of  the  forged 
epistle,  which  she  then  held  in  her  hand,  concealed  in  the 
folds  of  her  dress,  proving  this  assertion  to  be  a  false- 
hood, all  doubts  of  his  guilt  vanished  entirel}^  In  a 
more  passionate  tone  than  she  had  hitherto  used,  she 
continued : 

"  By  what  right,  I  ask,  did  you  assume  such  responsi- 
bility in  a  matter  that  was — that  did  not  concern  you?" 

"  But  it  did  concern  me — my  love  for  3^ou  gave  me 
that  right.  It  gives  me  the  right  of  protecting  j^ou  from 
such  insolent  liberties — from  a  presumptuous  fool  who 
was  lost  to  all  sense  of  propriety,  as  well  as  of  honor." 

"  Indeed  !  And  by  the  same  argument  you  claimed 
the  right  to  imitate  my  handwriting,  and  to  forge  my  sig- 
nature to  this  insulting  reply  that  you  sent  him  !  "  she 
cried  impetuously,  throwing  the  note  in  such  a  way  that 
it  fell  on  his  hand  that  rested  on  the  piano.  She  had  in- 
tended to  control  herself  when  she  commenced,  but 
anger  and  indignation  had  become  too  strong,  and  waves 
of  red  and  white  heat  succeeded  each  other  over  her  face, 
while  a  steady  blaze  of  lightning  shot  from  her  eyes. 

So  much  passion  apparently  took  him  by  surprise,  and 
he  hesitated  and  looked  down.  He  had  caught  the  note, 
and  was  holding  it  rather  indifferently  in  his  fingers,  half 
open. 

"  What  is  the  use  of  all — "  he  had  commenced  to  re- 
ply, w^hen  his  eye  caught  something  of  its  contents,  and 
he  stopped. 

She  did  not  wait  for  him  to  finish  either  the  reading  or 
his  sentence,  before  she  commenced  again  in  the  same 
hot  and  contemptuous  manner : 


BELLEVIEW.  209 

*'  And  you — the  author  of  that  thing — talk  about 
honor?  " 

The  withering  scorn  of  her  words  and  manner  recalled 
his  attention  from  the  paper,  and  brought  at  the  same 
time  a  deeper  flush  of  crimson  to  his  cheeks  ;  but  the 
confusion  which  interfered  with  his  speech  appeared  to 
be  caused  more  by  surprise  than  by  shame. 

''  I  did  not — where  did  you " 

She  again  interrupted  him,  or  rather  broke  in  between 
the  disconnected  parts  of  his  sentence.  His  confusion, 
his  words,  his  manner,  all  tended  to  convince  her  more 
conclusively  as  to  his  guilt. 

"  And  after  getting  rid  of  your  rival  by  such  honor- 
able means,  no  doubt  you  think  you  are  conferring  a 
great  honor,  a  great  compliment  on  me,  by  the  offer  of 
your  honorable  love — by  the  offer  of  the  hand  which  ex- 
ecuted that  contemptible  piece  of  forgery — by  the  offer 
of  the  heart  which  could  devise  and  engineer  so  base  and 
mean  a  plot.  You  demand  an  answer,  eh?  Well,  you 
shall  have  it,"  drawing  herself  to  her  full  height.  ''  It 
is  this " 

''  Hold  on  I  "  he  cried,  the  sting  of  her  words  appear- 
ing to  clear  away  his  confusion  and  to  loosen  his  tongue. 
"  Stop  !  You  are  mad — you  do  not  know  what  you  are 
saying.  You  have  gone  crazy  about  nothing — there  is  a — " 

But  she  did  not  allow  him  to  finish,  every  word  he  ut- 
tered seeming  to  add  to  her  wrath  and  indignation. 

"  No  ;  I  have  not  given  you  my  answer  yet,  and  that  I 
am  determined  you  shall  have.  It  is  this  :  There  is  no 
lot  that  I  can  imagine  so  miserable,  or  so  debased,  but 
what  I  regard  it  as  preferable  to    becoming  your  wife  !  " 

"  Stop,  you  have  said  enough — too  much " 

^'  No,  I  have  not  finished  yet — your  answer  you  shall 
have  to  the  very  last  word.  I  love  your  sister  devotedly 
— I  admire  and  reverence  your  step-mother — I  esteem  and 
respect  your  father;  but  you,  siv — the  tender  of  your 
love  is  the  grossest  insult  you  could  possibly  offer  me — 
you,  whom  I  regard  with  less  respect  than  the  meanest 
slave  on  your  father's  plantation." 

''  Great  God  !  stop  !  I  cannot  take  such  language — 
even  from  you."  His  face  was  now  black  with  rage,  and 
his  hands  clenched  menacingly,  as  he  added:  ''Stop, 
before  you  tempt  me  too  far — before  I " 

'' Strike  me.     Why   don't  you  finish   your   sentence? 


210  LEON    RECEIVES    HIS    ANSWER. 

Strike  me — that  would  indeed  be  aii  act  peculiarly  be- 
fitting your  honorable  character.  Surely,  the  hand  that 
committed  that  forgery,  would  not  hesitate  to  strike  a 
woman.  Strike  me — it  cannot  add  one  iota  to  your 
baseness." 

He  turned  as  pale  as  death,  and  fell  back  a  couple  of 
steps,  as  if  an  abyss  yawned  beneath  his  feet.  Was  it 
possible,  he  thought,  for  a  Gachet  to  fall  so  low,  as  to 
be  accused  of  even  threatening  to  strike  a  woman? 
Trembling  like  a  leaf,  he  stood  dumb,  and  covered — 
well,  Elma  thought,  with  shame  and  degradation.  With 
only  a  short  pause,  she  continued : 

"  I  have  one  word  more  to  sa}^ — the  last  I  shall  ever 
say  to  you  —and  m}^  answer  will  be  finished.  I  leave 
to-morrow  morning  for  Macon,  and  shall  never  return 
to  Belleview — at  least,  so  long  as  you  are  one  of  its  in- 
mates. To  remain  under  tlie  same  roof  with  yo}i^  is  im- 
possible— to  eat  at  the  same  table  would  be  like  swal- 
lowing poison — to  breath 0  the  same  air,  would  suffocate 

"  for  the    first   time    she    faltered    and   gasped    for 

breath.  "  Your  presence  is  a  torture — vrorse  than 
death — it  will  drive  me  mad.     Let  me  pass." 

The  last  words,  however,  were  unnecessary,  for,  with 
an  oath  hissing  from  his  clenched  teeth,  he  turned  and 
rushed  from  the  room.  She  had  conquered,  and  had 
punished  ;  and  for  the  moment,  a  proud  smile  of  triumph 
vied  with  the  fire  in  her  eyes,  in  lightening  up  the  pale 
face,  and  in  relieving,  somewhat,  the  tensity  of  her 
drawn  and  rigid  lips.  Revenge  was  sweet ;  nor  did  the 
fact  that  part  of  the  retribution  had  been  inflicted  in  be- 
half of  a  wronged  and  absent  lover,  in  any  wise  lessen 
its  delights.  Aye,  she  told  herself,  it  was  for  him  that 
she  had  punislied — as  for  herself,  she  would  have  treated 
the  outrage  with  silent  contempt.  He  was  awn}^,  unable 
to  obtain  satisfaction  for  himself,  and  therefore,  from 
her  must  come  the  chastisement.  It  was,  for  the  mo- 
ment, an  agreeable  task,  but  by  the  inexorable  law  of 
reaction,  the  disagreeable  must  follow ;  and  scarcely 
had  his  hurrying  foot-steps  died  from  out  the  hall  on  the 
still  night  air,  than  the  smile  of  triumph  also  died  out 
from  her  face.  Growing  weak  and  dizzy,  she  was  forced 
to  cling  to  the  piano  for  support,  until  she  could  reach 
the  stool,  on  which  she  sank,  no  longer  able  to  stand. 
The  reaction  was  cruel ;  love  had   nerved   her   to  a  su- 


BELLEVIEW.  211 

preme  effort  for  vengeance  in  behalf  of  the  absent  one, 
and  now  she  must  suffer  the  result.  No  tears  came  to 
relieve  the  burning  eyes,  that  now  felt  like  the  coals  of 
fire  they  had  looked.  The  trembling  of  one  hand  rat- 
tled the  ivory  keys,  and  shivers  of  cold  racked  the  form 
w^hich  had  so  lately  been  afire  with  passion  and  hate. 
Chilly  doubts  shook  mind  and  bodj^ — doubts  of  the  wis- 
dom, the  propriety,  and  the  womanliness  of  her  course. 
Had  she  done  right?  urged  conscience,  now  strong, 
when  desire  for  revenge  had  been  satiated.  "  Yes," 
.she  kept  whispering  to  the  awakened  mentor,  "  for  his 
sake — not  mine."  These  doubts  must  also  be  conquered 
— to  give  way  to  them  now  would  kill  her — to  acknowl- 
edge that  she  had  erred,  would  loosen  the  last  anchor, 
and  plunge  her  into  the  abyss  of  despair. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  she  rallied  strength  sufficient  to 
climb  the  stairs  to  her  room,  but  as  she  laid  her  hand 
on  the  door-knob,  the  thought  that  probably  Mollie  was 
there,  caused  her  to  hesitate.  Coul'd  she  meet  Leon 
Gachet's  sister  just  then?  Could  she  hide  from  her 
friendly  eyes  the  traces  of  that  interview  ?  Mollie  must 
never  know  what  had  passed  between  them  in  the  par- 
lor— must  never  suspect  even  her  brother's  dishonor. 
Everything  connected  with  the  shameful  trick  must  be 
kept  from  all  the  family — other  causes  must  be  given 
for  her  low  spirits,  other  reasons  made  to  explain  this 
sudden  trip  to  Macon,  and  other  excuses  for  remaining 
away  when  she  was  gone.  This  would  necessitate  de- 
ceit and  subterfuge.  Again  the  doubt  arose  to  torment 
a  conscience  no  longer  protected  by  the  desire  to  pun- 
ish. Wondering  if  this  was  the  beginning  of  her  own 
punishment,  she  turned  away  to  seek  some  other  retreat, 
where  she  would  have  time  to  quiet  her  conscience, 
steady  her  nerves,  and  assume  the  mask  it  had  become 
necessary  to  wear  amongst  her  nearest  friends,  when  she 
heard  MoUie's  voice,  and  the  sound  of  her  footsteps 
passing  through  the  lower  hall  towards  her  mother's 
door 


212  THE  FRENZY  OF  PATRIOTISM. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  FRENZY  OF  PATRIOTISM. 

All  the  "  Cotton  States,"  in  quick  succession, 
passed  an  ordinance  of  secession,  and  appointed  dele- 
gates to  confer  with  each  other  on  the  subject  of  a  new 
government  or  confederation.  These  dc4egates  soon 
met  in  the  city  of  Montgomery,  and  through  their  uni- 
ted ministrations,  "  The  Confederate  States  of  Amer- 
ica" were  born  into  the  world  of  nations.  Its  wet 
nurses  were  in  no  wise  discouraged  b}^  the  fact  tLat,  fig- 
uratively speaking,  it  was  destitute  of  even  the  swad- 
dling clothes  of  an  empire,  and  fondly  hoped  and  pre- 
dicted a  glorious  future  for  the  young  power.  Their 
love  and  their  devotion  would  speedily  provide  it  with 
the  necessary  food  and  raiment,  and  fed,  as  it  would 
be,  on  the  pure  milk  of  liberty  and  state  rights,  it 
would  rapidly  grow  in  beauty  and  strength  to  become 
the  paragon  par  excellence — the  model  of  political  in- 
stitutions, and  the  admiration  of  the  world.  In  the 
meantime,  all  eyes,  all  thoughts,  and  all  fears  were 
turned  towards  Washington  for  indications  of  the  policy 
of  the  new  administration — whether  it  was  to  be  peace 
or  war — and  in  earnest  appeals  to  the  adjoining  slave 
states  for  their  adhesion  and  support. 

Lincoln's  inaugural  address  proved  to  be  more  con- 
seiTative  than  was  expected,  and  for  one  short  month 
strengthened  the  confidence  in  a  peaceful  solution.  But, 
alas  for  human  hopes,  soon  the  flower-scented  breezes 
of  April  brought  tidings  that  destroyed  that  fond  illu- 
sion. The  same  air,  so  sweetly  laden  with  the  perfume 
of  earth's  fairest  productions,  also  bore  the  harsh  echo 
of  cannon,  booming  around  the  walls  of  Fort  Sumter, 
telling  in  unmistakable  language  the  sad  truth,  that  fra- 
tricidal strife  had  begun.  On  the  same  spot,  less  than 
one  hundred  years  before,  the  heroes  of  Carolina  had 
bid  defiance  to  England's  power  ;  but  now  it  was  broth- 
ers who  were  using  cannon  against  brothers  in  settling 
a  famil}^  quarrel,  and  to  begin  a  war  whose  horrors  were 
to  be  relieved  by  their  heroism  alone.  Yea,  a  struggle 
as  useless  as  it  was  hopeless,  but   in  which  they   made 


BELLE  VIEW.  213 

their  southern  willows — a  fit  emblem   of  the   result — as 
glorious  as  any  victor's  laurels. 

The  echoes  of  that  bombardment  acted  like  an  elec- 
tric shock,  raising  the  cry  "  to  arms  "  throughout  the 
South.  In  every  city  and  town,  and  around  almost  ev- 
ery village,  could  be  seen  the  weekly  drilling  of  volun- 
teer and  militia  companies  ;  while  the  white  tents  of  in- 
struction camps  gleamed  through  the  green  foliage  of 
many  a  hitherto  quiet  and  peaceful  grove.  The  young 
and  old  of  both  sexes  alike  caught  the  infection,  and 
war,  battles,  and  military  glory,  fought  and  won  in  the 
defence  of  their  country,  was  the  daily,  hourly  talk  of 
all.  The  pleasant  social  parties,  joyous  picnics  in  the 
leafy  vvoods,  and  merr}^  fishings  on  the  shady  banks  of 
creek  and  river,  that  usually  prevailed  this  season  of  the 
year,  were  forsaken  for  the  sterner  and  more  exciting 
scenes  of  the  drill  and  parade.  Youug  maidens  no 
longer  sang  soft  love  songs,  or  played  dreamy  waltzes 
for  enamored  beaus — their  music,  even,  must  needs  be 
martial  and  patriotic  ballads,  to  the  tune  of  which  their 
lovers  marched  away  to  die  amidst  the  din  of  harsher 
notes.  The  drum,  the  bugle,  and  the  fife  made  the  air 
resonant  with  their  soul-inspiring  sounds,  drowning  the 
agonizing  cry  and  piteous  prayer  of  many  a  mother's 
heart.  Even  the  negroes  caught  the  infection,  and  con- 
structing out  of  cane  rude  imitations  of  the  soldier's 
fife,  the  strains  of  "  Dixie,"  "  Bonnie  Blue  Flag,"  and 
kindred  airs,  only  ceased  in  the  camps  to  be  taken  up 
at  night  on  the  plantation,  where  the  old-time  fiddle  and 
banjo  lay  unstrung  on  the  shelf. 

'Twas  a  beautiful  sight,  those  long  lines  of  citizen 
soldiery,  in  gray  uniforms,  under  silken  banners,  step- 
ping to  the  stately  rhythm  of  their  own  martial  music  ; 
proudly  conscious  of  the  shiniug  eyes  that  gloated  in 
ecstasy  over  every  movement ;  still,  like  the  charge  of 
the  Six  Hundred  at  Balaklava,  "  it  was  not  war."  It 
was  a  sight  to  kindle  the  latent  fire  in  Southern  veins, 
inciting  the  participator  to  heroic  deeds  in  imagination 
— to  noblest  impulses  of  patriotism  and  devotion  to 
country,  but  it  gave  no  hint  to  the  uninitiated  of  the 
darker  scenes  that  lay  behind.  'Twas  a  beautiful  sight, 
but  alas !  it  was  serving  as  a  veil  to  hide  the  blood- 
stained fields,  the  heaps  of  dead,  the  crowded  hospitals, 
the  lonely  dying,  with  only  the  stars  of  heaven  to  watch 


214  THE  FRENZY  OF  PATRIOTISM.  ' 

the  last  struggle,  to  receive  the  last  message — to  hide 
the  broken  hearts,  the  ruined  homes,  the  devastated 
country — the  blood,  the  ruin,  the  misery  and  destruc- 
tion, that  constitute  the  true  reality  of  civil  war.  Oh, 
that  fate  had  only  left  that  veil  undrawn — had  left  the 
happy  illusion  undispelled — had  never  bared  to  those 
loving  eyes,  now  sparkling  with  pride  and  admiration, 
the  fearful  scenes  that  were  to  follow ! 

But  fate  willed  it  otherwise — inexorable  destiny  un- 
mercifully pursued  its  course.  Each  day  it  became  more  and 
more  apparent  that  there  could  be  no  peaceful  solution, 
that  the  power  of  arms  must  alone  settle  the  dispute. 
The  pride  of  the  South  cT)uld  not  yield,  while  the  fanat- 
icism of  the  North,  cruel  in  its  brutal  strength,  was  de- 
termined to  punish  "  the  defiant  rebels."  These  volun- 
teer companies  were  soon  hurried  to  the  front,  and  the 
gala-days  of  the  local  drill -field  ceased,  taking  away 
from  the  fond  spectators  *'all  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  war."  Slowly  the  veil  was  withdrawn,  and 
happy,  hopeful  enthusiasm  was  succeeded  by  ceaseless 
anxiety  and  bitter  sorrow.  A  struggle  had  commenced, 
whose  extent  and  severity  could  not  be  measured  by  the 
imaghiation  of  either  the  most  eager  combatant, 
thirsting  for  glory,  nor  the  most  reluctant  lover  of  peace, 
longing  for  the  end — a  war  that  was  to  astonish  the  civ- 
ilized world  with  its  fury  and  magnitude,  completely 
overthrowing  the  preconceived  opinion,  that  '*  the 
Americans  were  not  a  war-like  people." 

The  lightest  part  of  the  burden  of  this  war  did  not 
fall  upon  the  Southern  women.  When  the  true  history 
of  this  section  is  written,  the  pages  allotted  to  them,  to 
their  trials,  their  sacrifices,  and  to  their  steadfast  devo- 
tion to  the  lost  cause,  will  not  be  the  least  glorious  of 
an  honorable  record.  They  never  stopped  to  question 
if  their  cause  was  right — if  justice  was  oh  their  side — 
they  could  not  comprehend  even  the  possibility  of  a 
doubt  on  that  point,  but  with  an  unfaltering  faith,  they 
contributed  their  all  in  its  support.  This  feeling  per- 
vaded all  classes  alike — from  the  farmer's  wife  to  the 
daughter  of  the  wealthiest  planter ;  and  dresses,  spun, 
woven,  and  made  by  their  own  hands,  were  prized  by 
the  latter  more  highly  than  the  richest  silks  and  satins  ; 
while  their  jewels  and  golden  ornaments  were  freely 
offered  to  replenish  the   exhausted  exchequer  at  Rich- 


BELLE  VIEW.  215  ' 

mond.  Ladies  who  had  never  known  any  coarser  work 
than  the  silken  embroidery  with  which  they  whiled  away 
the  tedious  hours  of  luxury,  now  forsook  their  boudoirs 
and  parlors  for  the  weaving- room ;  and  young  girls, 
whose  fingers  had  never  come  in  contact  with  any  harder 
substance  than  the  ivory  keys  of  their  pianos,  now 
found  no  occupation  more  desirable  than  that  of  driv- 
ing the  spinning-wheel,  or  swinging  the  heavy  beam  of 
a  rude  hand-loom.  Instead  of  French  novels  and  cro- 
chet needles,  their  recreation  from  heavier  labors  con- 
sisted in  knitting  warm  socks,  mittens,  and  comforters 
for  the  loved  ones  in  the  army ;  and  none,  no  matter 
how  gently  and  tenderly  they  may  have  been  nurtured, 
but  what  eagerly  cut  out  and  stitched  up  the  home- 
made gray  uniforms,  made  illustrious  on  so  bloody  bat- 
tlefields. The  sick  or  wounded  soldier,  in  their  eyes, 
was  a  martyr  to  a  sacred  cause,  well  deserving  their 
faithful  and  loving  ministrations,  and  alone  entitled  to 
those  little  luxuries,  whose  scant  supply  was  fast  being 
exhausted,  without  any  prospect  of  a  speedy  renewal. 
Sorrows  and  disasters  did  not  lessen  their  ardor  ;  neither 
did  the  presence  of  the  enemy  daunt  their  courage.  Ru- 
mors of  defeat  they  ever  denounced  as  falsehoods — how 
could  their  armies  be  defeated  ?  Were  not  their  Gener- 
als the  most  skilful — their  soldiers  the  most  invincible — 
that  the  world  had  ever  seen  ?  And  was  not  their  cause 
a  just  one,  entitled  to  the  favor  of  the  God  of  Battles? 
and  would  He  not,  in  His  own  good  time,  crown  their 
valor  with  the  wished-f or  success  ?  Even  when  the  news 
of  Lee's  and  Johnston's  surrender  came,  they  indig- 
nantly scouted  the  idea  that  the  Confederates  were  con- 
quered— "only  overpowered,"  they  claimed, ''by  the 
countless  legions  that  the  North  and  Europe  have  sent 
against  us ;  "  and  the  weary,  foot-sore,  ragged,  and 
half-starved  remnant,  returning  to  their  homes,  received 
a  victor's  welcome.  Many  a  shame-faced  rebel,  smart- 
ing with  the  sting  of  defeat  and  humiliation,  sought  the 
presence  of  his  sweetheart  with  downcast  ej^es,  only  to 
find  himself  a  veritable  hero  in  her  estimation.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  it  took  four  years  of  the  great  North's 
mightiest  efforts  to  ensure  the  final  victory,  when  their 
opponents  were  stimulated  and  encouraged  by  the  love, 
the  prayers,  and  the  patriotism  of  such  women? 
Eight  or  wrong,  can  devotion  like  this  be   criminal  ? 


216  THE    FRENZY    OF    PATRIOTISM. 

Even  if  mistaken — if  the  victims  of  a  false  principle 
— can  so  much  courage,  unselfishness,  and  fidelity  be 
lost?  We  think  not.  The  example  is  left  to  their  chil- 
dren, who  Avill  paint  and  frame  the  picture  in  the  nation's 
heart ;  a  fit  companion-piece  to  that  other  scene  at  Ap- 
pomatox,  when  Gordon's  four  thousand  famished,  ema- 
ciated, and  bleeding  heroes,  begged,  with  tears  in  their 
eyes,  to  be  allowed  to  make  one  more  charge,  although 
each  private  must  have  known  that  it  meant  death,  and 
nothing  more. 


The  days  and  weeks  passed  by,  but  Mrs.  Martin  re- 
ceived no  letter.  She  watched  the  incomiug  of  the  semi- 
weekly  mail  with  anxious  interest,  but  as  time  passed, 
and  events  unfolded  themselves,  it  became  evident  that 
her  watching  was  all  in  vain.  Elma  also  did  some  watch- 
ing, for  she,  too,  was  not  entirely  without  hope  of  hear- 
ing from  AVyndship,  or  of  his  return — a  hope  which, 
faint  as  it  was,  lingered  awhile  after  all  mail  communi- 
cations with  Pennsylvania  had  ceased.  Faith  is  a  sweet 
counselor,  even  when  we  have  no  tangible  grounds  for 
believing  its  delusive  whisperings  ;  but  sooner  or  later 
there  must  come  a  time  when  its  influence  is  forever 
past — when  our  desires  can  no  longer  deceive  us  against 
reason.  So  it  was  with  Elma.  Her  judgment  told  her 
that  the  probabilities  of  Mrs.  Martin's  letter  reaching 
him  during  the  turmoil  of  revolution,  were  slight  indeed, 
and  when  weeks  and  months  had  passed,  bringing  hos- 
tilities and  war,  reason  convinced  her  that  this  slight 
chance  had  miscarried.  All  that  was  left  of  her  first 
love-dream,  was  the  memor}^  of  the  few  delightful  hours 
that  fell  to  her  lot  before  her  happiness  had  been  so 
ruthlessly  extinguished  ;  unless  we  except  a  recollec- 
tion, weighing  like  a  nightmare  on  her  conscience,  of 
that  last  scene  with  Leon  Gachet,  wherein  she  had  taken 
vengeance  into  her  own  hands.  Notwithstanding  her 
innate  hatred  for  all  that  was  mean  and  dishonorable, 
and  her  decided  conviction  of  his  guilt,  this  doubt  still 
remained  to  trouble  her. 

It  is  a  necessity  with  the  feminine  heart  that  they 
have  some  idol — some  person,  some  object,  or  some 
idea — which  they  endow  with  divinity  in  their  imagina- 


BELLE  VIEW.  217 

tion,  and  on  which  they  lavish  all  their  instincts  of  wor- 
ship. Deprived  of  her  idol, Elma  nnconscionsly  sought 
a  substitute  ;  but  as  her  fancy  was  incapable  of  endow- 
ing any  other  person  in  the  same  perfect  and  Godlike 
manner  as  it  had  "Wyndship,  it  was  impossible  to  fill  his 
place.  In  fact,  he  had  never  been  removed  from  her 
heart — the  idol  still  remained  on  its  pedestal,  safe  and 
untouched,  and  there  was  no  room  left  for  a  rival  of  the 
same  dimensions.  No  woman  can  love  two  men  at  the 
same  time,  and  it  would  be  years  before  one  of  her  na- 
ture could  forget  the  first.  But  this  objection  did  not 
extend  to  ideas  not  connected  with  man  and  marriage  ; 
so,  to  dispel  unhappy  thoughts  of  what  might  have 
been,  and  to  distract  her  aching  heart,  sick  with  disap- 
pointment, she  adopted  a  principle  as  the  recipient  of 
the  adoration  which,  under  happier  auspices,  would  have 
been  lavished  on  a  lover  or  husband.  This  principle 
was  her  country's  cause,  and  catching  the  spirit  which 
animated  her  sisters  of  the  South,  she  became  one  of  the 
truest  and  most  enthusiastic  femiale  adherents  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy ;  only,  that  her  enthusiasm  was 
imbued  from  the  start  with  the  sam.e  element  of  sadness 
that  all  afterwards  acquired.  A  sadness  which,  like 
theirs,  was  not  produced  by  anticipations  of  defeat,  but 
for  personal  bereavements,  and  for  loved  ones,  suffering 
and  in  danger.  Then,  too,  her  patriotism  was  even 
more  unselfish  than  theirs,  as  she  had  no  lover,  father, 
or  brother  to  link  her  in  the  bonds  of  love  to  the  fate  of 
the  Southern  soldiery — the  bond  was  simply  love  of 
country,  and  devotion  to  what  she  imagined  was  its 
honor  and  its  rights. 

The  want  of  personal  interest,  and  of  happy  antici- 
pations of  joy  in  the  future  did  not  render  her  patriot- 
ism any  the  less  earnest  or  self-sacrificing.  In  a  quiet 
way,  avoiding  all  show  and  ostentation,  she  allowed  no 
opportunity  of  doing  her  country's  defenders  a  service 
to  pass  unappropiated.  No  box  filled  with  clothing  and 
home  cookies  ever  left  the  neighborhood  for  the  camps 
in  Virginia  and  Tennessee,  that  did  not  contain  some 
contribution  of  hers — some  handiwork  of  her  fingers 
that  would  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  rebel  boys.  The 
sick  and  wounded  on  furlough,  no  matter  how  humble, 
were  sure  to  receive  some  token  of  her  appreciation,  in 
the  shape  of  little  dainties  to  tempt  their  appetites,  man- 


^18  THE    FRENZY    OF    PATFtIOTIS:\r. 

iifactured  by  her  own  hands ;  and  often,  when  circum- 
stances permitted,  were  favored  with  the  still  greater 
boon  of  her  presence  and  nursing.  But  more  than  all 
else,  the  indigent  families  of  poor  men  who  volunteered 
were  the  special  objects  of  her  care  and  assistance.  On 
these  she  lavished  the  contents  of  her  purse  unstintedly, 
besides  using  her  influence  in  raising  contributions  among 
the  wealthier  for  their  support.  She  seemed  to  have 
taken  this  as  her  special  duty,  and  in  its  performance, 
she  did  not  in  the  least  falter  during  those  four  long  and 
gloomy  years. 

She  returned  to  Belleview  after  a  few  months'  stay  in 
Macon,  unable  to  resist  Mollie's  tearful  appeals.  Leon 
had  been  among  the  first  to  volunteer,  and  his  absence 
removed  the  only  obstacle  that  prevented  her  returning. 
Her  friend  was  in  trouble — double  trouble,  for  Charley 
Hurst,  despite  his  father's  Union  proclivities,  had  also 
donned  the  gray,  and  left  for  Virginia.  So  Elma,  know- 
ing what  a  sore  little  heart  that  was  left  behind,  felt  it 
a  duty  to  extend  all  the  consolation  her  companionship 
and  sympathy  could  give.  The  communism  of  sorrow 
had  torn  away  the  slight  barriers  raised  by  the  want  of 
confidence  on  Elma's  part,  and  tlieir  mutual  troubles  re- 
newed and  strengthened  their  old  friendship  and  sisterly 
feeling.  Even  to  the  eyes  of  her  closest  friend, 
Elma  did  not  display  the  signal  of  distress  ;  still,  Mol- 
lie  instinctively  knew  that  her  friend's  lot  was  far  more 
unenviable  than  her  own,  for  it  was  not  relieved  by  hope  of 
happier  days  in  the  future — was  cheered  and  lightened 
by  none  of  those  precious  missives  from  the  front,  which 
now  formed  her  own  greatest  solace. 

Prompted  by  this  conviction,  she  eagerly  reciprocated 
the  other's  efforts  at  comforting  as  far  as  was  permitted. 
Sympathy  that  was  genuine  was  as  sweet  to  Elma  as  to 
any  one,  but  she  possessed  a  spirit  too  independent  and 
self-reliant  to  seek  it  on  every  side,  or  indeed,  to  seek 
it  at  all.  Still,  there  were  times  when  even  her  strong 
nature  grew  weak  beneath  the  constant  burden — when 
she  would  gladly  have  laid  aside  the  yoke,  and  found 
rest  in  the  grave.  In  addition  to  a  hopeless  sorrow,  her 
heart  was  often  probed  with  the  thought  that  prob- 
ably the  one  she  loved  so  truly  was  then  bearing  arms 
against  her  country — that  he  was  one  of  those  whom 
patriotism  required  her  to  execrate ;  and  to  wish,  if  not 


BELLE  VtEW.  Si  9 

to  pray,  for  their  destruction.  This  was  indeed  a  har- 
rowing thought.  "  He  will  know  my  feelings,"  she  told 
herself,  vainly  trying  to  quiet  this  fear — "  he  will 
know  that  I  cannot  but  be  true,  aye,  devoted  to  the 
cause  of  the  South,  and  for  my  sake,  will  refrain  from 
joining  the  ranks  of  our  oppressors.  But  he  went  away 
believing  you  wrote  that  note — that  you  entertained  the 
despisable  sentiments  it  expressed — he  is  ignorant  of 
the  vile  plot  that  destroyed  your  happiness  as  well  as 
his.  Believing  all  this,  his  love  has  long  since  been  turned 
to  hatred  and  contempt,"  At  tins  unanswerable  argu- 
ment, her  head  would  sink  in  shame  and  misery,  and 
tears  would  come,  which,  if  scant  and  few,  were  con- 
centrated in  bitterness. 


BELLEVIEW. 


PART    II. 
CHAPTER  I. 

GETTYSBURG LEON  MAKES  A  PREDICTION. 

It  was  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  on  the  night  of 
July  2nd,  1863,  and  the  second  day's  battle  at  Gettys- 
burg had  closed.  Quiet,  with  the  exception  of  the  cus- 
tomary noises  of  armies  encamped,  had  settled  down  on 
these  historic  ridges,  already  red  with  brothers'  blood, 
and  destined  to  become  still  redder  before  this  act  of 
the  great  drama  was  forever  finished.  A  line  of  glim- 
mering camp  fires  along  the  western  slope  of  Seminary 
Ridge  marked  the  position  of  Pickett's  Division  of  the 
Confederate  Army,  which  had  only  that  evening  arrived 
to  participate  in  the  struggle.  Around  these  camp-fires 
the  soldiers  were  grouped  in  various  occupations,  some 
still  engaged  in  eagerly  discussing  the  meagre  details  of 
success  during  the  preceding  two  days,  which  had  come 
to  their  knowledge  ;  while  others,  more  philosophically 
inclined,  were  seeking  the  restorative  influences  of  slum- 
ber to  recuperate  their  energies  for  the  duties  and  dan- 
gers that  the  morrow  would  bring.  Precious  slumber  ; 
for  besides  its  refreshing  effects,  it  brought  svreet  dreams 
of  the  loved  ones  at  home,  whose  forms  were  destined 
never  to  bless  their  waking  sight  again.  The  next  night 
many  of  them,  now  so  proudly  confident  of  a  glorious 
victory,  and  an  early  peace,  that  would  send  them  back 
to  their  sunny  homes  in  the  South,  would  be  the  cold 
possessors  of  that  peace  which  knows  no  breaking,  save 
but  by  the  Archangels  trumpet. 

Across  the  darkness  of  the  intervening  valley,  on  the 


BELLEVICU'.  221 

opposite  ridge,  a  faint  glow  iDdieated  the  position  of 
the  Federal  army,  who,  no  doubt,  were  engj;ged  with 
the  same  thoughts  and  occupations.  The  gloom  of 
night,  like  a  curtain  between  scenes,  had  shut  down  on 
the  stage,  and  hid  from  sight  the  debris  and  destruction 
of  the  two  daj^s'  battles.  Hid  also  the  preparations  go- 
ing on  behind  for  the  denotiment  when  another  dawn 
should  ring  up  the  sable  folds.  Or  rather,  was  it  not  a 
mantle  of  charity  which  nature  wished  to  throw  over  the 
wrecks  of  human  passion?  A  trick,  with  which  she 
wished  to  cheat  herself  into  the  belief  that  no  cannon's 
roar  had,  or  would  shake  those  picturesque  hills  ;  no 
bayonet  charge  had,  or  would  rush  in  frenzied  valor 
across  that  lovely  valley  ?  Shocked  by  the  fearful  use 
to  which  the  glorious  light  of  day  had  been  put,  did  she 
not  wish  to  check  the  sin  and  hide  the  horror,  while 
angels  wept  and  prayed  ? 

On  this  night,  beneath  the  shadow  of  some  trees  that 
crowned  the  western  ridge,  the  forms  of  two  persons  in 
earnest  conversation,  might  have  been  dimly  seen.  One 
of  them  stood  with  one  arm  resting  on  the  neck  of  a 
horse  he  had  evidently  been  riding,  while  the  other  paced 
back  and  forth  in  the  shadows,  now  slowly  and  quietly, 
now  quickly  and  restlessly,  in  harmony  with  his  thoughts 
and  words  ;  and  sometimes  stopping  quite  still,  as  if  to 
hear  his  companion's  replies  more  distinctl}",  or  to  give 
greater  emphasis  to  his  own  remarks. 

"  And  you  have  had  no  late  news  from  home?"  re- 
marked the  first,  in  a  disappointed  tone. 

"  No.     Your  letters  are  later  than  my  last." 

This  want  of  intelligence  from  home  seemed  quite  a 
disappointment  to  the  first  speaker,  as  he  remained  si- 
lent, while  the  second  person  paced  back  and  forth  for  a 
minute  or  two.  The  latter  was  the  first  to  renew  the 
conversation. 

"  I  understand  the  fighting  has  all  been  in  our  favor, 
so  far?" 

* '  Yes  ;  entirely  so,  with  our  wing  of  the  army — 
well,"  the  other  added,  modifying  his  assertion,  "our 
success  this  afternoon  was  not  as  decisive  as  I  could 
wish.  We  captured  the  enemy's  breastworks,  but 
Early's  division  was  afterwards  driven  back.  Johnson 
still  holds  what  he  won  on  the  extreme  left,  but  I  fear 
the  Yankees  will  be  too  many  for  him  in  the  morning, 


^^2  GETTYSBURG LEON  MAKES  A  CONFESSION. 

unless  he  is  strongly  reinforced.  I  wonder  how  Long- 
street  succeeded  in  his  nltaclv  ?  " 

"  He  drove  them  back  some  distance,  I  understand." 

"Did  he  succeed  in  capturing  '  Round  Top,'  and  in 
turning  their  position?  " 

"  No — I  think  not." 

"  Well,  there  is  hot  work  ahead  of  us  yet,  before  our 
victory  is  decisive." 

"Oh,  we'll  whip  them  easily  to-morrow." 

"I  hope  so." 

"You  hope  so?     Why  don't  you  say  j-ou  know  so?" 

"Because  they  seemed  determined  this  evening  to 
hold  their  ground  at  all  hazards,  and  besides,  thc}^  have 
been  receiving  reinforcements  all  day,  and  now  have  not 
only  the  advantage  of  position,  but  also  of  superior 
numbers.  I'm  afraid  our  success  is  about  over,  for  the 
present." 

"Come,  don't  be  a  '  Doubting  Thomas,'  now,  on  the 
eve  of  the  greatest  victory  we  have  yet  won." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  The  Yanks  fought  in 
quite  a  different  stj^le  to-daj^  from  what  they  did  yester- 
day." The  recollection  of  the  first  day's  victory  seemed 
to  have  quite  an  inspiring  effect  on  the  speaker,  for  he 
continued  with  animation:  "You  just  ought  to  have 
seen  how  Rodes's  division  v/ent  for  them  then,  Leon 
— it  would  have  done  you  good  to  the  end  of  your  toes. 
Howard's  corps  was  nothing  more  than  chaff  before  a 
hun-icane.  We  drove  them  through  the  town  down  there, 
like  a  flock  of  sheep." 

' '  They  haven't  got  over  the  '  thrashing'  you  gave 
them  at  Chancellorsville." 

"  I  reckon  not,"  assented  the  other,  with  a  laugh. 
"  I  heard  one  of  the  prisoners  we  captured  say  that  he 
guessed  it  was  all  a  mistake  about  Stonewall  Jackson  be- 
ing dead,  from  the  way  we  fellows  were  wading  in." 

"  Yes,  and  from  the  way  we  shall  '  wade  into  them  * 
to-morrow,  they  will  think  a  hundred  StonewallJacksons 
had  come  to  life." 

"  I  wonder  if  '  Uncle  Robert'  intends  attacking  them 
in  the  centre  to-morrow?"  resumed  Charley,  after  some 
minutes'  silence,  which  was  apparently  spent  by  the 
other  in  deep  thought. 

"I   think   so  —  at  least,   the    position   our   division 


BELLEVIEW.  223 

has  taken  in  their  front,  would  indicate  such  an  inten- 
tion." 

''  I  hope  not." 
''Why?" 

''Because  it  is  a  fearfully  strong  position,  and  will 
cost  much  blood  to  carry  it,  if  we  carry  it  at  all." 

"What,  not  carry  that  hill?  Why,  we  would  storm 
the  depths  of  hell  itself,  should  General  Lee  ffive  the 
order." 

"  You  haven't  seen  it  yet  by  daylight." 
"I  don't  care,"  answered  Leon,  hotly,  in  his  old 
proud,  imperious  manner.  "  I  don't  want  to  see  it,  only 
to  lead  my  regiment  in  a  charge  against  its  blue-coated 
defenders.  AVhen  that  time  comes,  I  and  my  regiment 
of  Virginians  are  going  into  their  works — do  you  hear 
it?" 

"  If  you  live  to  reach  them." 

''  I  will  live  to  reach  them — I  could  not  die  short  of 
their  lines." 

"After  all  our  success,  it  won't  do  to  fall  back  into 
Virginia  without  a  decisive  fight,  I  reckon,  but  I  hope 
the  General  "will  devise  some  other  way  of  getting  at 
them,  than  to  charge  across  this  valley  and  up  that  hill. 
A  mistake  was  made  in  allowing  them  to  take  that  posi- 
tion, I  think." 

"  What — have  you  gone  to  criticising  your  commander? 
General  Lee  never  makes  mistakes." 

"I  am  not  criticising  General   Lee — he   may   never 
make  mistakes,  but  his  Lieutenants  sometimes  do ;  and 
I  think  this  is  one  of  the  times." 
"How  is  that?" 

"I  heard  one  of  the  General's  staff  say  to-night  that 
he  expected'Lougstreet  to  attack  during  the  morning, 
instead  of  late  this  evening,  and,  if  he  had  done  so,  he 
would  have  been  more  successful.  Then,  Early  ought 
to  have  occupied  those  hills  last  night.  He  could  have 
done  it  then  without  much  fighting." 
"  Why  didn't  he  do  so?" 

"I  don't  know.  They  say  that  his  orders  forbade 
his  advancing  be^^ond  the  town  ;  but  if  old  Stonewall 
had  been  alive,  you  may  rest  assured  that,  orders  or  no 
orders,  he  never  would  have  rested  until  he  had  secured 
possession  of  all  the  strong  places." 

"  Well,  it  does  not  matter,"  answered  Leon,  after  a 


224  GETTYSBURG LEON    MAKES    A    CONFESSION. 

pause,  which  he  spent  in  pacing  back  and  forth.  "  Both 
armies  have  now  come  np,  and  Gettj^sburg  and  to-mor- 
row are  as  good  a  time  and  place  to  decide  this  war  as 
any." 

"  I,  for  one,  would  prefer  a  time  and  place  where  the 
chances  would  be  nearer  equal." 

"What?  Is  the  gallant  Captain  Hurst — his  com- 
mander's favorite  aid — who  has  been  so  often  compli- 
mented for  his  bravery  under  fire — about  to  show  the 
white  feather  ?  And  that,  too,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle 
that  is  to  briug  success  to  his  cause,  and  peace  to  his 
country  ?  " 

"  God  grant  that  such  will  be  the  result,"  Charley 
answered,  earnesth^  without  noticing  the  other's  fling, 
"but,  as  the  boys  would  say,  'I'd  ruther  see  it,  than  to 
hear  tell  of  it.'  I  will  take  an  honorable  peace  now,  in 
preference  to  all  the  compliments,  and  all  the  military 
glory  that  is  to  be  won  in  this  war.  To  acknowledge 
the  truth,  I  would  much  rather  be  back  in  '  Old  Geor- 
gia' to-night,  thr.n  here." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  j^ou  had  better  do  like  Arthur 
Slatou  ;  secure  an  easy  position  in  the  commissary  de- 
partment, out  of  danger.  If  I  can  be  of  any  service  to 
you,  command  me." 

This  sneer  was  too  much  for  even  Charley's  gcod  hu- 
mor, and  he  answered  with  spirit  : 

"  I  thank  you — I  have  no  intention  of  troubling  you 
in  that  way.  You  have  no  right,  nor  any  occasion  to  say 
what  3^ou  have — you  know  such  insinuations  are  unjust, 
for  I  have  never  yet  shirked  any  duty,  or  danger.  You, 
nor  au}^  one  else,  has  the  success  of  our  cause  more  at 
heart  than  I  have,  or  are  any  more  willing  to  fight  in  its 
defence." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Charley,"  Leon  answered,  with 
a  complete  change  of  manner,  that  took  the  other  by 
surprise  ;  "  the  sneer  was  not  intended  for  you — I  know- 
that  under  no  circumstances  could  you  show  the  white 
feather.  Thinking  of  that  scoundrel,  Slaton,  made  me 
say  what  I  did.  I  wish  to  God  I  had  him  here,  and 
could  place  him  in  front  of  my  regiment  to-morrow, 
where  the  boys  could  goad  him  on  with  their  bayonets  in 
a  charge.  It  would  make  his  rascally,  cowardly  heart 
jump  clean  out  of  his  mouth  with  terror." 

"  No  danger  of   your  ever  getting  him   into  such  a 


BELLEVIEW.  225 

position  as  that,"  Charley  answered,  his  good  humor  all 
returned. 

u  No,  him."     The  oath  was  too  emphatic  for 

type.  The  reference  to  Slaton  seemed  to  have  excited 
Leon  even  more  than  his  language  implied,  for  some  mo- 
ments of  silence  followed,  in  which  his  actions  evinced 
unusual  nervousness.  At  length  he  grew  more  quiet, 
and  stopping  in  his  walk,  returned  to  their  former  subject, 
but  in  a  different  tone. 

"  You  wish  for  a  speedy  peace — well,  yonr  wish  will 
be  gratified.  To-morrow  will  decide  the  war.  The  en- 
emy is  going  to  make  his  best  effort — his  death  struggle 
— but  we  are  going  to  win.  Their  army  will  be  routed 
and  scattered,  and  Washington,  Philadelphia,  and  New 
York  will  be  at  our  mercy.  Lincoln  will  be  forced  to 
grant  us  the  terms  we  demand  before  his  western  troops 
can  come  to  his  assistance.  It  will  cost  blood — it  will 
take  fighting  to  accomplish  it,  but  that  will  only  make 
the  result  more  decided  and  glorious.  Yes,"  he  added, 
after  a  pausa,  and  in  a  lower  tone,  "  to-morrow  will  se- 
cure the  independence  of  our  Southern  Confederacy,  but 
I  will  not  live  to  see  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  That  I  am  going  to  be  killed  on  yonder  hill." 

"Pshaw!  that's  all  nonsense." 

"It  is  not  nonsense.  As  certain  as  to-morrow  comes, 
I  will  be  killed." 

The  earnest  tone  and  manner  in  which  this  was  said, 
affected  even  Charley's  more  matter-of-fact  and  less  su- 
perstitious nature.  Leon  undoubtedly  believed  it,  and 
nothing  influences  a  hearer  more  than  self-conviction  on 
the  part  of  the  speaker.  But  Hurst  did  not  enjoy  such 
thoughts  himself ;  neither  did  he  think  that  they  could 
be  pleasant  companions  to  his  prospective  brother-in- 
law,  and  consequently  he  undertook  to  drive  them  away 
by  a  little  raillery. 

"  What?"  he  exclaimed,  in  mocking  imitation. of  the 
other's  tone,  when  accusing  him  of  showing  the  white 
feather,  "  is  the  brave  Lieutenant-Colonel  Gachet,  com- 
manding the — th  Regiment  of  Virginia  volunteers,  he  who 
has  won  the  admiration  of  friend  and  foe  on  so  man}'^  bloody 
fields — who  is  believed  to  be  not  only  devoid  of  all  fear, 
but  also  to  possess  a  charmed  existence — is  he,  I  say, 
giving  way  to  such  gloomy  forebodings  as  these,  right 


'226  GETTYSKURG LEON   MAKES    A   CONFESSION. 

on  the  eve  of  his  country's  greatest  victory  ?  I  cun't 
believe  it." 

''  You  may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please,"  answered 
Leon,  without  any  change  in  his  manner,  "  but  to-mor- 
row night,  or  when  this  battle  is  over,  you  may  look 
for  my  body  over  yonder,  and  you  will  be  certain  to 
find  it." 

Ridicule  was  useless  against  such  earnestness,  so 
Charley  dropped  it,  and  tried  remonstrance. 

"  Come,  you  must  not  talk  that  way,  Leon.  You 
must  not  brood  over  such  fancies,  but  instead,  think  of 
the  promotion  you  are  going  to  win,  and  the  glorious  re- 
turn home  when  the  war  is  over. 

"  That  will  be  for  you,  not  for  me.  I  know  that  I 
will  be  killed,  because  I  have  had  a  presentiment  of  it 
for  the  last  week,  ever  since  we  started  on  this  cam- 
paign. There  is  a  tradition  in  our  family — my  mother's 
family — that  just  before  death,  the  doomed  person  re- 
ceives a  warning  of  his  or  her  fate  by  just  such  a  pre- 
sentiment. It  was  the  case  with  my  mother,  so  my  old 
nurse  has  often  told  me.  A  few  days  before  she  died, 
when  no  one  had  any  idea  that  her  illness  would  prove 
fatal,  she  told  my  father  and  the  nurse  that  she  would 
die  at  a  certain  hour  on  a  certain  day.  They  tried  to 
laugh  her  out  of  the  idea,  just  as  you  have  me,  but  her 
prediction  was  verified  at  the  very  minute.  I  have  felt 
this  premonition  ever  since  we  left  the  Rappahannock, 
and  to-night  it  is  too  strong  for  me  to  doubt  what  it 
means  any  longer." 

^'  You  shouldn't  let  an  old  woman's  tale  like  that  get 
control  of  yom*  mind.  You  are  nervous — out  of  sorts — 
have  probably  undergone  too  much  fatigue  of  late,  and 
no  doubt  will  feel  better  to-morrow." 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  re- 
torted Leon,  with  a  partial  return  of  his  old  intolerant 
manner.  "  I'm  not  nervous — I'm  not  out  of  sorts — 
physically,  I  never  felt  better  in  my  life.  Nor  am  I 
afraid  to  die — in  fact,  death  could  not  come  in  a  more 
agreeable  shape  than  it  will  come  to-morrow.  It  is  true 
that  I  have  never  yet  received  a  scratch  in  all  the  battles 
that  I  have  been  through,  but  that  only  proves  that  my 
time  had  not  then  come.     It  will  come  to-morrow." 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  this  way.     I " 

*'  It  is  best  that  I  should  be  killed  to-morrow,"  inter- 


BELLEVIEW.  227 

riipted  Leon.     '*  Possibly  the  monner  of  my  death  will 
partly  atone  for  the  miserable  failure  of  my  life." 

' '  I  did  not  know  that  your  life  had  been  such  a  fail- 
ure— at  least,  others  do  not  so  regard  it.  Your  friends 
are  feeling  quite  proud  over  your  career  so  far." 

''  Drink  has  been  my  curse — my  ruin.  You  talk 
about  my  career  because  j^ou  do  not  know  of  my  dis- 
grace— if  you  did,  you  would  keep  your  mouth  shut. 
While  intoxicated,  I  was  a  participant  in  a  dishonorable 
action,  that  has  brought  an  ineffaceable  stain  on  the 
Gachet  name — something  that  never  happened  before — 
and  the  recollection  of  it — the  shame — sticks  to  my 
memory  like  a  curse.  Besides,  it  brought  me  the  with- 
ering scorn  and  contempt  of  the  only  woman  I  ever 
loved.  That  mistake,  and  its  results,  cannot  now  be 
rectified ;  and  consequently,  my  honor  cannot  be  re- 
deemed. I  am  tii-ed  of  the  burden,  and  do  not  wish  to 
live." 

"  Great  God !  Leon  !  What  are  you  talking  about 
— what  is  the  matter  with  you?  Are  you — have  you 
gone  craz}^?" 

Before  he  could  answer,  they  were  interrupted  by 
some  one  calling  for  "  Captain  Hurst." 

"  Hello  !  who  is  that?  "  replied  Charley. 

"  A  courier  from  General  Rodes.  He  wants  Captain 
Hurst  at  once." 

''  Is  that  you,  Saunders?  " 

*'  Yes.  The  General  wants  you  to  come  to  his  head- 
quarters right  away.  Captain." 

"All  right;  I  will  go  in  a  minute,"  and  turning  to 
his  companion,  he  continued  in  the  soothing  tone  that 
we  use  toAvards  the  sick  and  irresponsible  :  Leon,  I  am 
sorry  that  I  have  to  leave  you  in  your — your  present  state 
of  mind.  I'm  afraid  j^ou  have  been  brooding  over  some 
imaginary  trouble  too  much.  Go  to  sleep,  now,  and  try  to 
get  a  good  night's  rest ;  it  will  restore  your  spirits,  and  drive 
all  those  foolish  fancies  out  of  your  head ;  and — and 
you'll  forget  them  to-morrow." 

"Damnation!  Do  yon  think  I'm  crazy?  Well,  I 
don't  know  that  it  makes  any  difference  if  you  do. 
When  you  find  my  body,  after  the  battle  is  over,  I  want 
you  to  feel  in  this  pocket,"  laying  his  hand  on  the  breast 
of  his  coat,  "and  get  a  packet  in  there.  If  anybody 
else  finds  my  body,  and  takes  the  packet  first,  hunt  them 


228  GETTYSBURG LEON    MAKES    A    CONFESSIOlf. 

up,  and  make  them  deliver  it  np,  for  I  want  you  to  give 
it  to  Elma  Oweus  with  your  own  hands.     Will  you  do 
this?" 
''  I  will." 

*'  I  don't  care  if  you  read  it — I  intended  telling  you 
all  about  the  miserable  affair  to-night,  had  we  not  been 
interrupted  ;  but  you  must  not  let  its  contents  alter  your 
feelings  towards  MoUie." 
"  Nothing  can  do  that." 

"I  do  not  want  her  to  suffer  on  my  account.  She 
possesses  the  purest  and  most  loving  of  hearts  ;  and  you 
are  the  only  one  I  know  that  is  worthy  of  her." 

"  I  am  not ;  but  if  I  have  one  ambition,  it  is  to  make 
myself  more  so." 

"  Remember  the  packet — I  want  Elma  Owens  to  know 
the  truth  now,  if  I  was  too  proud  and  mad  to  tell  her 
when  I  should." 
"  I'll  remember ." 
"Good-bye." 

"  Oh,  Leon,  I  hate  to  leave  you  in  this  humor." 
''  Never  mind  my  humor — go  to  your  duty.  Take  care 
of  Mollie,  and — try  to  fill  a    son's  place   at  Belleview. 
You  can  do  it  better  than  I." 

They  wrung  each  other's  hands  a  moment,  and  sepa- 
rated. Charley  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  slowly  away 
in  the  direction  of  his  command.  He  could  not  help 
mhiding  Leon's  humor,  or  of  thinking  about  his  strange 
words  and  manner.  In  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  he  failed 
to  throw  off  the  depression  caused  by  their  conversa- 
tion ;  and  the  latter's  prophecies  and  self-accusations 
weighed  like  a  nightmare  on  his  spirits,  until  banished 
by  the  intense  excitement  of  the  following  day. 

Leon's  promotion  in  rank  had  been  rapid — from  a 
Lieutenant  to  Lieutenant-Colonel — but  this  was  not  owing 
to  personal  popularity  either  among  his  superior  officers 
or  among  the  rank  and  file.  In  fact,  during  the  first  part  of 
the  war,  a  difficulty  with  his  Colonel  had  made  it  neces- 
sary that  he  get  a  transfer  from  the  Georgia  regiment 
in  which  he  first  served,  to  one  from  another  state. 
Since  that  night  of  his  last  interview  with  Elma,  there 
had  been  a  marked  change  in  his  manners  and  disposi- 
tion that  did  not  add  to  their  attractiveness.  He  had 
grown  morose  and  unsociable,  and  consequently  made 
few,    if    any,  friends  among  his  comrades.      But  if  he 


BELLEVIEW. 

gained  no  love,  he  at  least  gained  their  respect  and  ad- 
miration by  a  personal  bravery  that  never  flinched  be- 
fore the  most  imminent  danger ;  and  while  man}^  of 
them  knew  that  his  father's  inflaence  helped  on  the  pro- 
motion, none  of  them  could  truthfully  say  that  it  was 
undeserved. 

Advancement  with  Charley  Hurst  had  not  been  so 
rapid.  Not  that  he  was  less  brave,  or  less  devoted  to 
duty,  but  because  he  was  not  backed  by  the  same  politi- 
cal influences.  Old  Colonel  Gachet  would  have  gladly 
extended  his  good  offices  for  the  benefit  of  his  expected 
son-in-law,  but  the  latter  was  too  independent  to  accept 
the  assistance.  Prompted  by  feelings  of  delicacy  and 
self-respect,  he  preferred  to  be  the  architect  of  his  own 
military  fortune.  The  hand  of  his  daughter  was  as 
great  an  obligation  as  he  desired  at  the  former's  hands. 
Unlike  Leon,  Charley  made  friends  both  above  and  be- 
low, and  had  become  quite  a  favorite  with  his  division 
commander ;  consequently,  his  prospects  for  future  ad- 
vancement were  very  good,  provided  he  escaped  the 
dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed. 

For  Leon  he  had  never  felt  any  special  feeling  of 
friendship  ;  in  fact,  they  were  too  unlike  in  character 
to  be  cordial  friends  ;  still,  he  was  Mollie's  brother, 
and  that  fact  produced  a  kindly  feeling  on  Charley's 
part,  which  otherwise  would  never  have  existed.  Then, 
too,  Leon  seemed  to  feel  the  influence  of  the  same  tie, 
and  treated  him  with  more  consideration  than  he  ever 
showed  to  anyone  else.  This  kept  up  a  connection  between 
the  two,  although  after  the  first  year  of  the  war,  their  du- 
ties in  different  commands  rendered  their  personal  inter- 
course less  frequent  than  at  first.  No  doubt,  this  added  to 
instead  of  decreasing  the  strength  of  the  tie,  as  it  was 
less  subject  to  the  strain  that  would  have  been  put  on  it 
by  Leon's  unamiability. 

E well's  Corps,  to  which  Charley  belonged,  had  been 
the  first  to  cross  the  Potomac,  and  had  formed  the  ad- 
vance of  Lee's  army  during  the  invasion  of  Pennsyl- 
vania; w^hile  Pickett's  division  of  Longstreet's  Corps, 
to  which  Leon  was  attached,  had  been  the  last  to  leave 
Virginia.  Consequently,  Avhen  the  act  of  concentration 
brought  the  two  commands  together  around  Gettysburg, 
it  was  natural  that  the  former  should  seek  the  latter  in 
search  of  news  from  home.     The  disappointment,  com* 


230  ''come  on,  i\rY  brave  VrnGiNiAXS." 

bined  with  Leon's  strange  T^'o^els,  and  persistent  asser- 
tion that  he  (the  hitter)  vrouhl  be  killed  in  to-morrow's 
battle,  had  its  effect  on  Charlej^'s  naturally  hopeful  tem- 
perament ;  and  to  the  surprise  of  his  comrades,  for 
once,  the  cheerful  and  usuall}^  gay-spirited  Captain 
Hurst  was  strangely  silent  and  depressed. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  COME  ON,  SIY  BRAVE  VIRGINIANS FOLLOW  ME." 

There  was  not  much  fighting  done  on  the  forenoon 
of  the  third  day.  Early  in  the  morning  the  Confederate 
left  under  Ewell,  was  forced  back  from  the  advanced 
position  it  had  won  the  previous  evening  ;  after  which  a 
comparative  quiet  prevailed  along  the  entire  length  of 
the  opposing  lines.  Under  the  cover  of  this  inaction, 
each  side  was  preparing  for  the  final  r.nd  decisive  effort. 
The  Confederates  concentrated  all  of  their  available  ar- 
tillery on  Seminary  Ridge  and  other  points  where  it 
would  command  the  Federal  centre,  and  the  batteries 
which  protected  that  part  of  the  defensive  lines ;  and 
behind  his  guns,  Lee  formed  his  column  of  assault.  He 
had  decided  to  strike  at  the  enemy's  best  protected, 
l)ut  most  vital  part.  About  one  o'clock,  tl-^  Southern 
artilleiy  opened  fire,  which  was  promptly  responded  to 
by  that  of  the  opposite  side.  For  three  hours  the  solid 
hills  shook  and  shivered  with  the  shock  of  over  two  hun- 
dred cannon  ;  their  continuous  discharge  foiming  a  duel 
of  grand  and  magnificent  proportions,  but  really  inflict- 
ing but  little  damage  to  either  armj^  Towards  four 
o'clock  this  fact  became  apparent  to  the  Federal  com- 
mander ;  and  moreover,  that  the  smoke  of  his  batteries 
was  filling  the  valle}^,  under  cover  of  which  Ike  rebels 
could  make  an  assault  with  better  prospects  of  success. 
Consequently,  he  ordered  his  fire  to  sh.cken,  but  for  the 
gunners  to  stand  by  their  pieces,  and  be  ready  to  turn 
them  against  the  Southern  infantry,  should  they  rppear 
in  the  valle3\  This  deceived  the  Confed(  I'lle  chief  of 
artillery,  who  reported  to  his  commancU'r  ''  that  the 
Federal  guns  were  silenced,  and  the  time  had  come." 

Soon,  from  t'\e  fringe  of  timber  and  cloud   of  smoke 


BELLEVIEAV.  231 

thnt  crowned  Seminary  Ridge,  there  emerged  a  gray  line 
of  battle,  nearly  a  mile  long.  It  was  Pickett's  division, 
and  a  part  of  Hetli's,  advancing  to  carry  Cemetery  Hill 
at  the  point  of  the  ba^^onet.  Steadily,  as  if  on  dress 
parade,  they  moved  into  their  respective  positions,  and 
into  the  valley,  which  was  to  be  to  so  many  of  them  the 
''valley  of  death."  The  silenced  batteries  of  the  Fed- 
erals awoke  to  life,  and  more  than  one  hnndred  brazen 
throats  hurled  defiance  and  death  at  the  intrepid  rebels. 
Save  a  few  stone  fences,  the  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
they  had  to  traverse,  furnished  not  a  particle  of  shelter 
from  the  balls  and  shells,  which  fell  amongst  them  with 
unerring  precision ;  still  they  moved  steadih^  forward, 
sending  a  thrill  of  admiration  even  through  their  oppo- 
nents' breasts  at  the  heroism  which  necessity  required 
them  to  resist  and  destroy.  They  crossed  the  open  val- 
ley and  began  the  ascent^ — now  balls  and  shells  were 
changed  to  grape  and  canister,  reinforced  by  the  still 
more  deadly  musketry  fire,  and  great  gaps  were  torn  in 
their  lines — whole  platoons  went  down  before  the  with- 
ering volleys — still  tliey  advanced.  In  places,  the  clos- 
ing up  had  left  wide  intervals  between  regiments  and 
brigades,  whilst  elsewhere,  not  taking  time  for  this  man- 
oeuvre, they  kept  on,  an  open,  ragged  skirmish  line, 
charging  with  the  bayonet.  They  were  veterans  unknown 
to  defeat ;  and  not  a  coward's  heart  beat  in  all  that 
twelve  thousand — their  General  had  sent  them  to  storm 
that  height,  and  his  order  must  be  obeyed.  Amidst 
the  hailstorm  of  deatli,  men  and  officers  alike  vied  in 
the  rivalry  as  to  who  should  be  foremost,  the  most  con- 
spicuous object  for  the  death-dealing  balls.  The  charge 
of  the  Old  Guard  at  Waterloo,  and  of  the  Irish  Brigade 
at  Fontenoy,  must  hereafter  sink  into  insignificance, 
wdien  the  name  of  Gettysburg  is  mentioned.  One  third 
of  their  numbers  had  fallen,  either  wounded  or  dead, 
and  all  hopes  of  success  were  vanishing  ;  but  still,  honor 
required  of  the  remainder  to  keep  on — to  die,  but  never 
to  stop  until  their  task  was  performed,  or  the}',  too,  had 
won  a  hero's  death.  It  was  their  mission  to  make  an 
effort,  though  futile,  which  should  henceforth  command 
the  admiration  of  the  world  ;  while  coming  Americans, 
so  long  as  America  exists,  will  remember  with  pride, 
that  it  was  their  forefathers  who  made  the  charge  on 
Cemetery  Hill,  n.nd  their  forefathers  who  met  and  re- 


232  "come  on,  my  brave  Virginians." 

pulsed  it ;  both  inspired  with  the   same  imcouquerable 
courage. 

The  ahnost  annihilated  line  advanced  to  the  very 
works  ;  aye,  a  part  of  them  won,  and  with  feeble  shouts 
of  triumph,  took  possession  ;  but  alas,  from  some  fault 
or  other,  they  were  not  supported.  From  each  side  of 
their  horse-shoe  line,  the  Federals  swung  fresh  reinforce- 
ments to  drive  them  back,  while,  without  intermission, 
the  storm  of  shot  and  carnival  of  death  went  on.  To 
win  what  they  had  was  a  herculean  achievement,  but  to 
hold  it  was  impossible.  AVhat  could  this  skh-mish  line 
of  victors  do  against  the  solid  masses  of  enemies  as  de- 
termined as  themselves,  but  to  retreat,  or  die  in  the 
works  they  had  captured?  One,  at  least,  of  the  Con- 
federates, did  not  seem  inclined  to  do  either,  for  a  blood- 
stained figure,  with  one  arm  hanging  limp  by  his  side, 
sprang  forward  some  paces  in  front. 

"  We  must  drive  them  back  farther,"  he  shouted,  with 
sword  waving  above  his  head.  "  Come  on,  my  brave 
Virginians — follow  me." 

The  words  were  lost  in  the  din  of  cannons  and  mus- 
ketry, but  his  men  understood  the  meaning  of  the  action, 
and  of  the  waving  signal.  These  soldiers  refused  to 
admit  that  their  officers  even,  were  braver  than  them- 
selves, and  consequent!}^,  promptly  attempted  to  obey 
the  order  ;  but  before  they  could  reach  his  side,  in  fact 
while  the  sword  was  still  waving,  the  officer  made  a  con- 
vulsive leap  and  fell  to  the  earth. 

The  surviving  remnant  of  the  assaulting  column?  fell 
back,  or  surrendered,  and  the  Federal  lines  were  re- 
stored. Soon  after  dark  an  officer  of  the  latter  army 
was  passing  along  a  little  in  the  rear  of  that  portion 
which  had  been  momentarilj^  in  the  possession  of  the 
Virginia  troops,  when  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a 
faint  and  piteous  appeal  for  water.  Stopping  in  re- 
sponse to  the  cry,  he  ascertained  that  it  came  from  a 
wounded  solder,  Avhom,  no  doubt,  the  relief  detail  had 
supposed  to  be  dead.  Stooping  down,  the  officer  gently 
raised  the  head  of  the  sufferer,  and  held  a  canteen  to 
his  lips,  at  the  same  time  calling  to  a  squad  of  litter 
bearers,  who  were  passing  near. 

"  Oh — thank  God  for  that  —  drink,"  murmured  the 
wounded  man   in  a  faint  voice,  that  sounded  strangely 


BELLEVIEW.  233 

familiar  to  the  other.  "  I  told  you,  Charley,  that  we'd 
wiD — but — I  Avould  be  killed." 

The  detail,  oue  of  whom  carried  a  lantern,  approached, 
and  the  Federal  officer  hastily  seized  the  light,  and  held 
it  so  the  rays  would  fall  full  on  the  face  of  the  one  he 
was  supporting. 

''Great  God!"  he  exclaimed,  involuntarily  letting 
the  head  fall  back  on  the  ground,  "  it  is  Leon  Gachet." 

A  spasm  of  pain  crossed  Leon's  face,  and  his  eyes 
slowly  opened.  "  Yes,  it  is  I — Charle}- — and  I  told — 
you  how  it  would  be."  Then  his  eyes  opened  wide  Avith 
surprise,  as  he  saw  the  faces  bending  over  him.  "  How 
is  this — where  am  I  ?  " 

Wyndship,  the  Federal  officer,  did  not  answer ;  he  ap- 
peared to  be  struggling  with  the  repugnance  which  had 
caused  him  to  remove  his  support  from  the  other's  head 
the  instant  of  recognition.  At  length  the  question  was 
repeated. 

"Where  am  I?" 

"  You  are  badly  wounded,  and  within  our — the  Union 
lines,"  was  the  reluctant  answer. 

"  Wasn't  the  Southern  army  victorious?"  Leon  de- 
manded, with  more  strength  and  animation  than  seemed 
possible  for  one  in  his  condition. 

''That  was  impossible." 

"  My  God  !     Do  you  mean  that  we  were  repulsed?  " 

" Yes," Wjmdship  answered  coldly.  "The  Southern 
troops  were  repulsed — those  that  were  not  killed,  or  cap- 
tured." 

The  contortion  in  Leon's  face  now,  was  not  caused  by 
physical  suffering  alone.  Once  his  lips  moved,  but  he 
checked  the  words  before  they  were  uttered.  No  doubt, 
he  felt  a  strong  desire  even  then,  when  he  knew  that  his 
life  must  soon  end  forever,  to  give  the  lie  to  the  other's 
assertion.  At  length  his  lips  curled,  and  something  like 
a  smile  of  scorn  flitted  over  the  drawn  features,  as 
he  retorted  ;  "  Of  course  your  side  always  claims  the  vic- 
tory." 

Wyndship  did  not  reply — none  was  needed  he  thought, 
besides,  excitement  was  already  having  its  effect  on  his 
dying  enemy,  whose  eyes  quickly  closed  again,  as  if  this 
last  effort  of  pride  and  defiance  was  too  much  for  his 
weakened  condition.  Then,  too,  his  mind  seemed  to  be 
confused  by  conflicting   thoughts  and  memories  called 


234  "COME  ON,  :my  brave  Virginians. 

up  by  the  meeting ;  nor  did  he  seem  to  decide  in  his 
mind  what  to  do,  until  his  attention  was  called  by  one 
of  the  detail,  inquiring  if  he  wished  the  wounded  rebel 
carried  back  to  the  hospital.  He  then  assisted  the  de- 
tail in  lifting  Leon  on  the  litter,  and  directed  them  where 
to  carry  him,  mentioning  a  surgeon's  name,  under  whose 
care  he  wanted  him  placed. 

He  stood  and  watched  the  party  as  they  moved  away 
in   the   darkness,   his    mind  and   heart    still    the  prey 
of  conflicting  thoughts  and  emotions.    He  did  not  doubt 
for  an  instant  but  what  Leon  had  been  his  successful  ri- 
val with  Elma  Owens,  and  believed  that  she  was  now 
his  wife  ;  that  she  now  bore  his  hated  name.     Believing 
this,,  their  unexpected  meeting  had  revived  the  memory 
of  the  cruel  wrong  he  had  suffered  at  her  hands,  bring- 
ing into  vivid  letters  of  light,  the  very  words  of  that  in- 
solent and  insulting  note.     The  recollection  of  what  he 
had  suffered  that  last  night  in   Somerville  ;  aye,  the  old 
pain  itself  was  renewed,  and  its  torture   excited  bitter 
feelings  of  resentment  against  Elma,  as  well  as  Leon. 
A  resentment    that  was  also  accompanied   with  exulta- 
tion, for  was  not  death  now  acting  as  his  avenger  in  de- 
stroying his  successful  rival?     Was  it  not  inflicting  on 
her  heart  a  wound  something  like  the  one  she  had  so 
ruthlessly  dealt  to  his — holding   to   her   lips   the   bitter 
draught  she  had  poured  out  for  him?     Truly,  a  formid- 
able ally  had  taken  up  his  cause,  and  was  punishing  the 
heartless  duplicity  and  egotism  that  had  ruined  his  life. 
The  time  had  come   for  these  two  to  suffer,  and  why 
should  he  feel  any  pity  or  regret  ?     They  had  not  spared 
him  in  the  past ;  then,  why  should  he  make  any  effort  to 
alleviate  the  sufferings  of  one,  or  perform  any  service  for 
him   that  might  palfiate  the  sorrow  of  the   other?     By 
placing  Leon  in  charge  of  the  relief  party,  to  be  carried 
to  where  the    surgeons  were   at  work,  he   had  done    all 
that  humanity    demanded  at  his  hands :   aye,  more,  for 
was  he  not  doing  a  magnanimous  act,  in  not  letting   him 
remain  to  die   alone  on  the   battle-field,  like  many  an- 
othei  better  man  was  doomed  to  do  that  fearful  night  ? 
Why,* then,  should  he   care  whether  or  not   he  received 
the  needed  attention? 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that  crowded  through  his  mind 
as  he  stood  and  watched  the  disappearing  litter,  but  still 
he  hesitated.     Was  it  the  better  part  of  his  nature  ?  the 


BELLEVIEW.  235 

natural  kindness  of  his  heart — that  resisted  the  argu- 
ments? Or  was  it  tht  desire — the  longing,  after  all  he 
had  suffered,  to  hear  once  more  from  that  village  in 
Georgia — from  the  woman,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
past,  was  still  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world  to  him? 
^Yas  it  self-love  and  vanit}"  that  suggested,  by  a  mag- 
nanimous course,  to  heap  coals  of  fire  on  those  that  had 
wronged  him?  Or  was  it  love  and  pity  for  Elma,  a 
wish  to  assist  her,  by  assisting  the  one  she  loved — her 
husband — in  his  dire  extremity?  Whether  from  one,  or 
from  all  these  motives,  it  matters  not,  the  better  feeling 
triumphed,  and  he  hastened  after  the  lantern,  whose 
liglit  was  faintly  glimmering  through  the  darkness. 

The  temporary  field  hospital,  to  wliich  Leon  was  con- 
veyed, was  a  farm-house,  some  little  distance  to  the  rear 
of  the  Federal  lines.  The  dwelling-house  had  long  been 
filled  to  overflowing  with  wounded,  and  the  barn  and 
out-houses  had  also  been  utilized.  The  barn  itself  was 
crowded  when  the  party  arrived,  and  the  dim  lights 
fastened  to  the  walls  revealed  a  ghastly  spectacle,  with 
its  overflowing  contents  of  moaning  and  writhing  pa- 
tients— a  spectacle  whose  horror  was  not  relieved  by  the 
busy  surgeons,  with  their  blood-stained  arms  and  instru- 
ments. But  the  diviner  attributes  of  humanity  were 
not  wanting;  pity  and  mercy  were  there,  not  only  in  the 
shape  of  regular  corps  of  hospital  stewards  and  nurses,^ 
but  also  in  that  of  many  volunteer  assistants  of  both 
sexes,  from  the  people  of  the  surrounding  countr}^,  who 
had  hastened  to  help  repair  the  effects  of  "  man's  inhu- 
manity to  man  ;  "  while  here  and  there  could  be  seen  the 
pure  white  cowl  of  a  sister  of  charit}",  ever  devoted  to 
their  work  of  mercy. 

Crowding  his  way  in,  Wyndship  soon  found  the  sur- 
geon he  was  seeking,  and  who  was  an  old  friend  and  ac- 
quaintance. The  latter  readily  complied  with  his  re- 
quest, and  stooping  down  over  the  litter,  made  a  rapid 
examination  of  Leon's  wounds. 

"  No  chance,"  was  all  he  said,  rising  to  his  feet,  when 
through. 

"  But,  Doctor,  can  j^ou  do  nothing  for  him — is  there 
no  hope  ?  " 

The  surgeon  looked  at  the  speaker  inquiringly.  "  Is 
he  a  connection  or  friend  of  yom*s  ?  I  see  that  he  is  a 
rebel  oflScer." 


236  "COME  ON, 

"  N — DO,  only  a — an  acquaiutauce  ;  still,  I  would  like 
for  all  to  be  done  for  him  that  is  possible,  either  to  save 
his  life,  or  relieve  his  snfferings." 

'*  To  save  his  life  is  impossible — at  least,  not  at  all 
probable,  and  there  are  too  man}^  of  our  brave  fellows 
who  have  a  chance,  needing  my  services,  for  precious 
time  to  be  wasted  in  what  I  must  regard  as  useless  ef- 
forts. Still,  his  sufferings  can  be  relieved  somewhat ; 
provided  he  does  not  die  before  he  comes  out  of  that 
swoon.  You  might  place  him  to  one  side,  in  a  more 
comfortable  position,  and  in  care  of  a  nurse,  to  whom  I 
will  give  some  medicine  that  will  lessen  his  paroxysms 
of  pain." 

Wyndship  looked  around,  but  saw  no  place  in  the 
building  that  was  not  already  occupied.  The  surgeon 
had  followed  his  gaze,  and  understood  the  thought. 

"  There  is  a  little  room,  or  stall,  over  there,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  rear  of  the  barn,  "which,  I  believe,  is 
empty  yet.     You  might  take  him  in  there." 

The  suggestion  was  accepted,  and  the  still  uncon- 
scious rebel  was  carefully  removed.  An  armful  of  straw 
was  obtained  and  shaken  down  in  one  corner  of  the  lit- 
tle room  ;  over  this  a  blanket  was  spread,  making  a  not 
uncomfortable  pallet.  A  sister  of  mercy  accepted  the 
task  of  acting  as  nurse,  and  with  kind  and  gentle  touch 
arranged  the  bundle  of  hay,  which  had  been  improvised 
into  a  pillow.  Having  done  all  that  circumstances  per- 
mitted for  Leon's  comfort,  AVjmdship  now  deemed  his 
presence  no  longer  demanded  by  the  dictates  of  human- 
ity ;  and,  inexpressibly  pained  and  shocked  by  the  scenes 
of  misery  and  suffering  around  him,  gladly  took  his  de- 
parture. Before  doing  so,  however,  he  left  his  name 
and  the  location  of  his  command  with  the  sister,  so  that 
he  might  be  summoned  should  he  be  needed. 

This  latter  precaution  proved  to  be  not  unnecessary, 
for  in  about  an  hour  after  returning  to  his  post,  a  mes- 
senger brought  him  the  intelligence  that  the  wounded 
Southerner  had  revived,  and  had  expressed  a  strong  de- 
sire to  see  him.  His  duties  for  the  night  were  over, 
consequently,  he  immediately  complied  with  the  re- 
quest. 

It  was  with  strange  and  indescribable  feelings  that 
Wyndship  returned  to  the  dying  man.  Was  it  to  be  his 
duty  to  receive  the  last  message  from  Elma's  husband, 


BELLEVIEW.  237 

for  delivery  to  her?  Was  he  about  to  be  called  on  to 
soothe  the  last  hours  of  the  one  man  he  had  hated  above 
all  others — wipe  the  damp  of  death  from  his  brow,  the 
blood}^  froth  from  his  lips  ?  When  all  was  over,  and  the 
body  laid  away  in  a  grave  marked  for  future  identifica- 
tion, would  it  be  his  duty  to  write  to  her,  giving  a  his- 
tory of  his  death,  and  his  last  loving  y>^ords?  And  when 
this  war  was  over,  as  it  must  be  some  day,  and  she  came 
to  this  historic  field  in  search  of  his  grave,  would  the 
task  of  pointing  out  the  place  be  his  ?  Could  he  do  all 
this?  Impossible,  he  thought.  The  conviction  that  the 
two  were  husband  and  wife  was  firmly  impressed  on  his 
mind,  and  he  never  once  thought  that  there  could  be  any 
doubt  of  its  correctness. 

The  sister  was  seated  by  the  pallet  of  straw,  softly 
fanning  the  wounded  man,  who  lay  with  closed  eyes, 
apparently  asleep,  or  dead  as  Wyndship  thought,  when 
he  entered.  Admonished  by  her  warning  gesture,  he 
stepped  lightly  forward,  but  this  precaution  was  unnec- 
essary, for  instantly  the  eyes  opened,  showing  even 
more  deeply  black  in  contrast  with  the  pallid  face. 


CHAPTER  III. 


LEON  AND  AYYNDSHIP. 


"  I  HOPE  you  are  resting  easy,  now?"  said  Wynd- 
ship, assuming  the  post  vacated  by  the  sister  on  his  ap- 
proach. 

''As  much  as  could  be  expected,"  Leon  answered,  in 
a  weak  voice,  but  in  an  indifferent  manner,  which 
showed  that  he  regarded  the  question  as  a  matter  of 
courtesy. 

Wyndship  moved  uneasil3^  He  was,  possibly,  in  a 
more  uncomfortable  position  than  even  the  sufferer ;  nor 
did  the  intense  gaze  fixed  on  his  face  tend  to  increase 
his  composure.  He  dreaded  what  was  to  come,  and 
longed  for  the  interview  to  be  over.  To  break  the  awk- 
w^ard  silence  that  followed  these  words,  he  turned  to 
the  sister,  who  had  not  yet  left  the  room,  and  inquired  if 
all  had  been  done  for  the  comfort  and  welfare  of  her  pa- 
tient that  he  had  directed. 


.  \  5-_ 


238  LEON    AND    AVYNDSHIP. 

"Nothing  can  be  done  for  me  now,"  interposed  Leon. 
''I  am  past  iielp.  I  know  that  I  am  (h^ing — aye,  knew 
that  this  would  be  the  end  twenty-four  hours  ago.  I  did 
not  send  to  you  for  aid  of  that  kind." 

"  You  must  not  give  up — possibly  your  wounds  will 
not  prove  fatal,  and  you  may  yet  recover  to  return  to 
your — 3' our  friends." 

"  I  know  that  I  am  dying,"  repeated  the  other,  impa- 
tiently. "  I  expected  to  be  killed  in  this  battle,  but  lit- 
tle thought  that  our  army  would  be  repulsed,  and  that  I 
would  die  a  prisoner." 

"  Not  a  prisoner — we  do  not  regard  the  wounded — in 
your  condition — as  prisoners." 

Waiving  aside  this  disclaimer  with  a  slight  motion  of 
his  uninjured  arm,  Leon  continued : 

'*But  as  such  is  the  case,  I  have  sent  for  you  to  ask 
at  your  hands  a  favor  that  I  expected  Charley  Hurst  to 
perform,  had  matters  turned  out  as  I  anticipated." 

"  Anything  that  I  can  do  for  you  will  be — willingly 
done." 

''  At  least,  it  will  not  be  an  unrequited  favor,  for  I 
must  necessarily  make  an  explanation  that,  I  dare  sa}^, 
will  amply  repay  you,  not  only  for  the  trouble,  but  also 
for  the  violence  your  feelings  are  now  undergoing,  in 
expressing  a  sympathy  and  regret  that  you  do  not 
feel." 

These  bitter  words,  and  the  meaning — almost  sneering 
— tone  in  which  they  were  uttered,  brought  a  flush  to 
Wyndship's  face.  AVhile  he  was  hesitating  what  to  say, 
they  were  interrupted  by  the  sister,  who,  after  giving 
him  some  instructions  concerning  the  medicine,  and 
where  she  would  be  found  when  the  interview  was  over, 
retired  from  the  room. 

"I  hardly  know  where  to  begin,"  resumed  Leon,  not 
giving  the  other  time  to  speak.  "  I  little  thought  that 
this  explanation,  for  I  do  not  intend  it  as  a  confession, 
would  be  made  to  you,  of  all  men — 3^ou,  whom  I  have 
hated  as  only  men  of  m}^  nature  hate  those  who  have 
robbed  them  of  some  cherished  prize.  I  never  dreamt 
that  this  would  be  the  end,  or  that  circumstances  could 
induce  me  to  tell  you  what  1  am  going  to  relate  ;  but  I 
have  reasons  for  wanting  the  truth  knovrn,  and  I  feel 
assured  that  the  revelation  will  not  be  any  benefit  to 
you — will  not  assist  you  in  regaining  what  you  have  lost. 


BELLEVIEW.  239 

If  I  thought  different,  my  lips  would  be  sealed,  no  mat- 
ter if  a  thousand  hells  confronted  me." 

He  stopped  and  remained  silent  a  few  moments,  as  if 
considering.  AVyndship  also  remained  silent,  wondering 
what  could  be  the  other's  meaning. 

"  No,  it  will  not  do  you  any  good — the  uniform  you 
wear  will  prevent  that.  You  will  not  have  much  the  ad- 
vantage of  me,  after  all — we  have  both  lost.  The  prize 
is  bej'ond  j^our  reach,  as  well  as  mine." 

"  What  do  3"0U  mean?"  exclaimed  Wyndship,  with 
ill-suppressed  emotion— "  what  are  you  talking  about? 
What  prize  have  we  both  lost?  " 

' '  The  one  that  we  both  desired  above  all  things  on 
earth — that  is,  if  j^our  Northern  blood  had  warmth 
enough  about  it  to  love  Elma  Owens  as  she  deserved  to 
be  loved." 

''  What — how  have  I — have  we  both  lost  her?"  Not- 
withstanding his  efforts  at  self-control,  Wyndship  was 
trembling  all  over  with  excitement. 

"  Ah,  you  are  still  in  the  dark — for  more  than  two 
years  you  have  been  in  the  dark,  and — have  suffered. 
This  thought  has  brought  me  the  onlj^  joy — the  only  con- 
solation I  have  felt  for  my  own  loss.  You  have  suffered 
— Yankee  as  you  are,  I  know  that  3^ou  have  felt  the  bit- 
terness of  disappointment — and  of  heart-ache,  for  Elma 
Owens  is  one  of  those  women  that  bring  to  the  men  who 
love  them,  either  the  most  perfect  happiness,  or  the 
greatest  misery.  I  know  that  3^ou  loved  her — that  you 
love  her  yet,  for  I  see  it  in  your  face." 

Unable  to  longer  restrain  his  excitement,  Wyndship 
sprang  to  his  feet,  his  face  paling  and  reddening  by 
turns,  with  the  storm  of  doubts,  fears  and  passion  that 
the  words  of  Leon  had  raised  in  his  bosom.  The  latter 
lay  still  and  watched  his  rival's  emotion  with  a  smile  of 
enjoyment,  and  of  satisfied  malice,  altogether  out  of 
unison  with  his  own  pinched  and  pallid  features.  Even 
with  death  so  near,  he  evidently  had  not  lost  his  love  for 
revenge  ;  nor  was  the  consolation  he  claimed  an  idle 
boast.  Unable  to  raise  himself  from  the  blanket,  and 
with  the  grave  yawning  before  him,  he  could  still  find 
pleasure  in  probing  his  enemy's  wound. 

"  And  did  you  love  her  so  much?"  he  asked,  taunt- 
ingly. ''  Yes,  I  believe  you  did — even  more  than  I, 
possibly,  for  mine  has  almost  —  not   quite — turned    to 


240  LEON    AND    WYNDSHIP. 

hate.  Well,  I  will  give  j^ou  some  good  news — -will  make 
you  my  debtor  for  the  first  happiness,  I  dare  say,  you 
have  felt  for  nearly  three  years.  Your — love — was — 
returned — I  say  it  slowl}^,  so  that  3'ou  can  take  it  all 
in." 

F'or  a  minute  Wj^ndship  could  have  almost  strangled 
the  helpless  man  at  his  feet.  He  believed  that  he  was 
cruelly  probing  his  wound  for  the  gratification  of  his 
own  hate  and  revenge,  a  conviction  that  was  strength- 
ened by  the  taunting  tone  and  mocking  smile.  But  a 
change  was  coming  over  the  latter,  for  he  was  too  weak 
for  a  long  indulgence  in  this  mood.  The  smile  died 
away  from  his  face  as  he  commenced  again,  more  se- 
riously : 

'^  You  don't  believe  me?  Well,  it  is  true,  nevei"Che- 
less.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  you  had  been  cheated 
out  of  your  happiness  by  a — a  trick  ?  " 

"  Great  God  !  do  not  try  me  too  far.  If  j^ou  are  say- 
ing all  this  to  torment  and  tantalize  me,  understand  now 
that  you  can't  inflict  any  greater  suffering  than  I  have 
already  endured.  If  what  you  tell  me  is  true,  and  you 
really  defrauded  me  of  my  happiness  b}^  some  vile  trick, 
stop,  or  I'll " 

''  If  I  did,  what  then?"  cried  Leon,  defiantl3^  For  a 
short  while,  the  two  men  glared  into  each  other's  ej^es  ; 
then  Wyndship  dropped  back  into  his  seat,  helpless. 
His  enemy  was  beyond  the  reach  of  his  vengeance.  The 
other's  anger  and  defiance  also  soon  died  aAvay,  when 
this  victory  was  assured,  and  a  better  expression  came 
into  his  face,  as  he  watched  his  unarmed  foe — unarmed, 
he  instinctively  knew,  by  his  own  helplessness. 

"  Yes,"  he  resumed,  in  an  altered  tone,  that  for  the 
first  time  during  the  interview,  showed  some  appearanyce 
of  regret.  "Yes,  j^ou  were  cheated  out  of  your  happi- 
ness ;  and,  unfortunately  for  my  peace  of  mind,  for 
my  honor,  and  my  self-respect,  I  was  the  unconscious 
agent  of  the  fraud — the  tool  of  a  cunning  and  design- 
ing rascal.  To  punish  this  person,  and  to  foil  him  in 
the  further  execution  of  his  schemes,  is  why  I  make 
this  explanation — it  is  not  from  any  love  for  you,  as  you 
very  well  know.  But  I  have  much  to  tell,  and  I  am 
growing  weak — my  time  is  limited."  In  truth,  his  voice 
had  grown  very  faint,  and  the  cold  damp  on  his  brow 
had  increased  to  drops  of  moisture.     He  made  a  gesture 


liKLLEVTEW.  241 

towards  Uie  Lottie  ofmcdicine,  which  ^Vyndship  hastened 
to  obey,  by  pouring  out  and  administering  the  prescribed 
dose.  This  soon  revived  him,  and  at  once,  as  if  to 
avoid  the  loss  of  precious  time,  he  commenced  again. 

"I  do  not  know  what  passed  between  you  and  Elma 
Owens,  only  what  was  told  me  by  another  part}",  and 
what  I  surmised  from  an  interview  with  her  after  you 
left.  I  suppose,  however,  that  j^ou  made  her  a  declara- 
tion of  love.     Am  I  right?" 

"SYyndship  hesitated  a  little,  and  then  nodded  his  head 
in  reply.  Notwithstanding  his  late  anger,  he  was  all 
anxiety  now  to  hear  Leon's  story. 

"  You  first  thought  that  your  love  was  favorably  re- 
ceived, but  aftenvards  had  reason  to  think  otherwise?  " 

No  answer  being  returned  to  this,  he  continued : 
"  You  sent  her  a  bouquet  of  flowers  the  afternoon  be- 
fore you  left,  which  was  returned  with  an  insulting  note 
of  declination?" 

Wyndship  still  remained  silent,  his  face  very  white 
and  hard. 

"  The  same  day,  you  received  a  letter  from  home,  tell- 
ing you  of  your  mother's  illness?  I  ask  these  ques- 
tions because  my  memory  of  that  day's  occuiTences  is 
somewliat  indistinct,  although  the  main  points  I  remem- 
ber onl}^  too  well.     I  was — well,  I  was  drunk." 

''  Y'ou  are  right,"  answered  AYyndship  ;  I  did  send 
the  flowers,  and  they  were  returned  with  such  a  note.  I 
did  receive  such  a  letter  from  home." 

"  Did  it  never  occur  to  you  that  she  did  not  write  that 
note — that  she  did  not  receive,  or  know  anything  about 
the  flowers?" 

"  Stop  !  For  God's  sake  tell  me  the  truth — do  not 
tantalize  me  so." 

For  an  instant  the  exultant  light  rekindled  in  the  eyes 
of  the  dying  man,  but  he  promptly  continued  : 

"  She  did  not — she  knew  nothing  about  it  until  after- 
wards." 

Wjmdship  started  up  again,  and  his  breath  came  quick 
and  fast. 

"Did  you  do  it?" 

"AYere  I  a  well  man,  that  inquiry  would  cost  you 
your  life,  or  lose  me  mine,"  cried  Leon,  defiantly.  "  I 
could  not  resent  that  imputation  from  her,  but  I  can 
from  you." 


242  LEON    AND    WYNDSIIIP. 

The  look,  the  munner,  and  the  time  were  nil  convinc- 
ing, bnt  without  stopping  to  recall  or  disavow  the  sus- 
picion, Wj-ndship  demanded : 

"  "Who  did — who  was  the  person?" 

*' Do  you  still  believe  that  I  did — that  I  wrote  that 
forgery?" 

"  N-no — I  do  not." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you.  The  person's  name  was — Ar- 
thur Slaton." 

"The scoundrel,"  cried  the  other,  with  a  blister- 
ing oath  that,  possibly,  had  never  before  passed  his  lips, 
*' I  could  kill  him." 

"  I  hope  3^ou  will,"  Leon  replied,  almost  gleefulh^ — 
"  that's  partly  what  I  am  working  for.  But  I  am  grov,'- 
ing  weak,  and — must  tell  you  all — all,  for  after  that 
speech,  I  want  j^ou  to  know  ever3^thing — all  about  it. 
AVell,  I  was  away  from  home  at  the  time  you  were  woo- 
ing the  girl  I  intended  should  be  my  wife — away  at  Mil- 
ledgeville,  where  I  got  on  a  spree  with  some  friends. 
My  father  was  also  there,  and  to  avoid  him — to  prevent 
his  knowing  my  condition — I  left  there  and  went  to  Ma- 
con, intending  to  sober  up,  and  then  go  home.  Unfor- 
tunately for  this  resolution  I  attended  a  champagne 
supper,  given  by  an  acquaintance  at  the  latter  -place, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  was  still  far  from  sober  when  I 
arrived  at  IMilton,  on  my  way  home.  There  I  met  Ar- 
thur Slaton,  who  oifered  to  carry  me  out  to  Belle  view 
next  day,  which,  I  believe,  was  Thursday.  AYe  went 
to  a  hotel  to  spend  the  night,  and  occupied  the  same 
room.  As  soon  as  we  were  alone  together,  he  told  me 
about  5' on  and  Elma — what  he  had  seen  pass  between 
you  in  the  boat,  and  that  he  was  certain  that  it  was  a 
declaration  of  love  on  your  part,  that  was  not  unfavor- 
ably received  by  her ;  beginning  with  the  warning,  that 
if  I  did  not  look  sharp,  the  'Yankee  School  Teacher' 
would  get  away  with  the  prize  I  coveted.  Of  course  he 
said  a  good  deal  more,  and,  no  doubt,  added  much  to 
the  truth.  My  mind  was  already  heated  by  the  wine  I 
had  been  drinking,  and  his  tale,  and  the  bantering  he 
gave  me,  set  me  on  fire  with  jealous  rage.  I  do  not 
know  what  1  said  and  did,  or  exactly  what  passed  be- 
tween us,  for  I  was  too  mad  and  drunk  to  remember 
with  acciu'acy,  but  he  told  me  afterwards  that  I  acted 
like  a  madman — swearing  that  if   his  tale  proved  true, 


*  BELLEVIEW.  243 

I  "would  have  your  heart's  blood,  rather  than  she 
should  become  j^our  wife ;  that  I  made  such  terrible 
threats  of  vengeance  that  he  became  alarmed,  fearing  I 
would  put  them  in  execution  on  sight ;  and  to  prevent 
blood-shed,  and  to  quiet  my  passion,  that  he  suggested 
some  stratagem  by  which  you  might  be  circumvented, 
and  driven  from  the  countr3\  I  remember  his  offering 
me  his  assistance  in  canying  out  some  plot  to  get  rid  of 
you,  but  what  that  plot  was  I  do  not  remember.  I  was 
in  no  humor  for  such  means,  and  told  him  that  I  could 
manage  you  mj^self.  Of  course  much  more  was  said, 
but  this  is  about  Avhat  I  recollect. 

"  I  slept  late  next  morning — after  the  usual  breakfast 
hour — but  he  got  up  early,  and  went  around  to  the  post- 
office,  which  was  kept  by  a  cousin  of  his,  to  get  any 
mail  for  himself,  or  for  his  father's  family  that  might  be 
lying  there  waiting  for  the  Somerville  hack.  You  re- 
member that  the  mail  was  carried  out  to  Somerville  only 
twice  a  week — on  Tuesdays  and  Fridaj^s — and  all  mail 
that  came  between  those  days  had  to  lie  over  in  the  Mil- 
ton office.  Well,  while  there,  his  cousin  showed  him  a 
letter  addressed  to  you,  marked  urgent  on  the  envelope, 
and  he  offered  to  carry  it  out  to  Somerville,  and  deliver 
to  you  that  day — at  any  rate,  he  got  possession  of 
your  letter.  I  was  still  in  bed,  trying  to  recall  what  he 
had  told  me,  and  what  had  occurred  the  evening  before, 
when  he  got  back.  As  soon  as  he  came  in  the  room  he 
pulled  out  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  asked  me  if  I  did  not 
want  a  hot  stew ;  and  as  I  was  extremely  nervous  and 
thirsty  after  my  prolonged  spree,  I  gladly  accepted. 
Well,  he  ordered  up  a  kettle  of  hot  water,  saying  that 
he  could  beat  any  one  in  concocting  that  kind  of  a 
drink ;  but  his  real  object  became  apparent  when,  after 
making  the  stew,  he  coolly  took  your  letter  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  holding  it  over  the  steam  from  the  kettle  un- 
til the  mucilage  became  moist,  opened  and  proceeded 
to  read  its  contents.  The  letter  was  from  your  sister,  I 
think,  or  some  friend  in  Pennsjdvania,  informing  you  of 
your  mother's  illness,  and  urging  3'ou  to  return  home  at 
once.  I  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  Avhat  he  was 'do- 
ing until  he  was  through  with  the  reading,  when  he  told 
me  to  cheer  up,  that  '  this, '  holding  np  the  letter,  '  con- 
tained information  that  Avould  carry  the  Yankee  back 
Xorth  in  a  hurry,'  and  that  after  you  were  gone  it  would 


244  LEON   AND   WYNDSIIIP. 

be  an  easy  matter  to  break  np  the  connection  between 
you  and  Elma  ;  verifying  what  he  said  b}^  reading  part 
of  the  letter  aloud.  The  audacity  of  the  action  shocked 
and  amazed  me.  '  How  dare  you  commit  so  dishonor- 
able an  action,  and  so  great  a  crime  ?  '  I  demanded  ;  but 
he  only  laughed  at  m}^  scruples,  and  said  that  he  did  not 
regard  any  action  as  dishonorable  that  would  help  to 
thwart  the  mercenary  schemes  of  a  Yankee  adventurer  ; 
and  that  as  its  contents  were  so  favorable  to  m}^  inter- 
est, he  would  re-seal  and  promptly  deliver  the  letter,  v.nd 
that  no  one  but  ourselves  would  ever  be  any  the  wiser. 
I  never  knew  what  had  been  his  first  intention,  but  sus- 
pected that  it  was  to  take  out  the  original  and  substitute 
some  forgery  of  his  own,  requiring  your  presence  back 
North.  This  he  could  easily  have  done,  as  he  was  an 
adept  with  the  pen,  and  could  imitate  most  any  hand ; 
but  he  never  explained  his  plan  to  me,  for  I  gave  him  to 
imderstand  that  I  did  not  approve,  and  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  anything  of  the  kind.  I  ought  to 
have  cut  his  acquaintance  right  there,  but  he  claimed 
that  it  was  all  through  his  friendship  and  loyalty  to  me  ; 
besides,  his  brandy  was  strong,  and  after  one  or  two 
more  drinks  from  the  bottle  I  became  utterly  indifferent 
to  what  he  was  doing.  My  mind  was  made  up  as  to  the 
course  I  should  pursue,  and  that  was  to  provoke  a  duel, 
so  that  I  could  kill  you,  or  else  force  you  to  surrender 
your  pretensions  to  Elma's  love." 

The  speaker  here  paused  from  exhaustion,  although 
the  last  sentence  was  uttered  with  a  bitter  emphasis. 

"  But  the  note,"  cried  AVyndship,  too  much  en- 
grossed with  the  subject  to  notice  the  other's  condition. 
*' What  about  it?" 

"  I  am  coming  to  that,"  said  Leon  faintly.  "Give 
me  time,  and  some  more  of  that,"  motioning  towards 
the  medicine. 

Ashamed  of  his  negligence,  Wjmdship  hastily  poured 
out  and  gave  Leon  a  dose.  Then  resuming  his  seat,  he 
took  the  fan  that  he  had  allowed  to  drop.  Rallying  his 
strength,  the  sick  man  soon  continued :  "  Slaton  carried 
me  out  to  Belleview,  where  we  arrived  about  one  or  two 
o'clock.  No  one  was  at  home,  as  my  step-mother,  sis- 
ter, and  Elma  had  gone  off  somewhere  to  spend  the  day, 
and  did  not  return  until  night.  The  house  servants  had 
also  all  forsaken  the  house  for   the   quarter,  as   no  one 


r.KLLEVIEW.  245 

ex])ycted  my  return  that  day.  Slaton  objected  to  my 
calling  any  of  them,  and  drove  his  horse  around  to  the 
stables  himself.  ATe  went  in,  and  finding  some  cold 
provisions,  he  soon  appeased  his  hunger.  As  for  my- 
self, brandy  and  jealousy  were  food  sufficient  just 
then.  We  had  been  in  the  house  but  a  short  time  when 
I  heard  a  ring  at  the  door-bell,  and  went  out  to  ascer- 
tain the  cause.  It  was  Mr.  ^Martin's  boy,  Carlos,  bring- 
ing your  flowers  and  note  to  Elma.  The  sight  crazed 
me — set  ni}^  blood  boiling  afresh,  and  were  it  not  for 
the  presence  of  the  boy,  I  would  have  torn  them  to 
pieces  and  stamped  them  with  my  foot.  I  carried  them 
into  the  library  where  Slaton  was,  and  then  gave  way 
to  my  wrath  in  no  angelic  manner ;  I  dare  say  the  de- 
mons of  hell  themselves  would  have  been  abashed  by 
my  language.  While  I  was  striding  the  floor,  cursing 
the  flowers  and  your  impudence,  as  I  termed  it,  he 
coolly  examined,  first  the  floAvers  and  then  your  note. 
'  This  is  the  very  thing  we  want,'  he  cried ;  '  my  dear 
friend,  you  are  indeed  the  favorite  of  fortune.  Let  me 
manage  this,  and  I'll  guarantee  that  you  will  be  troubled 
no  more  by  Wyndship.'  I  was  not  pa^^ng  any  attention 
to  his  actions,  but  the  remark  caught  my  ear. 

'*  '  Yes,'  I  replied,  '  in  twenty-four  hours  he  will 
cease  to  be  a  lover  of  Elma  Owens,  or  I  will  be  a  dead 
man.' 

"  An  idea  had  struck  me  how  to  provoke  the  quarrel 
I  desired,  and  that  was,  to  return  your  gift  with  a  note 
over  my  own  signature  so  insulting  that  3^ou  must  needs 
resent  it  with  a  challenge,  or  be  forever  branded  as  an 
infamous  coward.  But  weakness  admonishes  me  that  I 
mast  make  my  recital  short.  While  I  continued  to  pace 
the  floor,  my  heated  brain  engaged  in  arranging  the  in- 
sulting words  I  intended  to  write  you,  Slaton  had  gone 
to  the  table,  and  was  engaged  in  writing.  I  went  to 
the  same  table,  and  soonhad  my  note  finished.  Y»^hafc 
was  its  exact  language  I  do  not  remember,  but  it  was 
just  such  that  no  man,  with  the  least  self-respect,  could 
swallow.  He  was  through  with  his  writing  before  I 
was,  and  when  I  looked  up,  he  said :  '  We  will  return 
these  flowers  in  Miss  Elma's  name  ;  and  in  just  such 
terms  that  his  pride  will  prevent  him  from  seeking  an 
explanation. 

*' '  How  are  you  going  to  do  that? '  I  asked. 


246  LEON    AND    WYNDSHIP. 

'^  '  Ob,  I  can  imitate  a  lacl^^'s  hand  to  perfection,*  he 
answered,  '  and  if  this  is  not  a  fac-simile  of  her  writ- 
ing, he  will  never  know  the  difference.  This  supposed 
rejection,  coupled  with  the  letter  he  receives  from  his 
sister,  will  send  him  back  North  in  a  huny,  never  to  re- 
turn.' He  then  read  me  the  base  forgery  that  you  re- 
ceived. The  cool  villainy  he  Avas  displajnng,  for  the 
minute  completely  dumbfounded  me  ;  but  not  for  an  in- 
stant did  I  entertain  the  rascally  proposition.  In  fact, 
I  was  thoroughly  disgusted,  notwithstanding  the  brandy 
I  had  drank,  and  then  and  there  determined  that  our  in- 
timacy should  speedily  end  ;  but  I  did  not  dream  of  the 
double  game  he  was  playing  ;  first,  to  separate  you  and 
Elma ;  and  then,  wlien  the  trick  was  discovered,  as  it 
undoubtedly  would  be  soon,  he  expected,  by  good  man- 
agement, to  keep  his  own  complicity  hidden,  and  let  the 
shame  and  opprobrium  rest  on  me.  By  this  means,  he 
would  drive  us  both  from  the  field — you  understand? 

"  '  No,'  I  answered.  '  I  am  not  forced  to  adopt  such 
methods  as  that — this,'  pushing  my  own  production  to 
his  side  of  the  table,  'will  answer  my  purpose.'  I  then 
requested  him  to  copy  it — intending  to  preserve  the 
copy  for  my  future  use — and  then  to  enclose  that  writ- 
ten b}^  myself  in  an  envelope  directed  to  you,  while  I 
went  out  in  search  of  a  messenger." 

"  And  in  your  absence  the  scoundrel  substituted  his 
production  for  yours  ?  "  cried  Wyndship,  as  the  other 
paused  for  breath. 

"  That  is  just  what  he  did,  as  I  afterwards  found  out 
to  my  shame  and  disgrace.  Well,  soon  after  he  left 
Belleview,  declaring  that  he  could  not  take  a  part  in  or 
countenance  a  course  which  would  be  sure  to  result  in  a 
bloody  meeting.  Of  course  I  cared  nothing  for  that, 
and  immediately  retired  to  my  own  room»  determined  to  so- 
l)er  up  ready  for  the  hostile  message  from  you  I  felt 
certain  would  be  the  answer  to  m}^  note — the  one  the  ly- 
ing villain  had  retained.  But  the  day  and  night  passed 
without  your  giving  any  sign  ;  and  next  day,  when  I 
heard  j^ou  had  left,  I  ascribed  it  to  cowardice  on  your 
part,  proving  that  you  were  utterly  unworthy  of  Elma. 
I  would  have  revealed  the  whole  affair  to  her  at  once,  but 
for  some  agitation  I  thought  she  exhibited  w^hen  she 
also  heard  of  your  sudden  departure.  This  made  me 
believe  that  you  had  been    more  successful  than  I   had 


BELLEVIEW.  247 

hoped,  and  respect  for  her  feelings — a  disinclhiation  to 
wound  her  self-respect  by  revealuig  the  unworthiness  of 
the  man  she  had  honored  with  her  regard,  kept  me  si- 
lent." 

*' How  did  3^ou  find  this  out — the  substitution  of  the 
note,  I  mean?" 

''  Ah,  now  comes  your  revenge.  Shall  I  let  you  en- 
joy it  or  not?  I  might  as  well,  for  you  and  Elma  are 
irrevocably  separated,  and  it  will  cause  an  additional 
pang  of  regret  when  you  realize  what  a  glorious  woman 
you  have  lost.     What  did  you  do  with  Slaton's  note  ?  " 

"  I— I  left  it  with  Mrs.  Martin." 

"Ah  ha!  I  think  the  scoundrel  must  have  counted 
on  just  such  a  result — it  was  a  part  of  his  deep-laid 
scheme  against  us  both.  Well,  she  showed  it  to  Elma  ; 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  trick  was  discovered. 
Between  them,  they  traced  the  matter  to  me,  which  was 
easy  enough.  I  expect  that  Slaton  thought  that  Elmn, 
out  of  consideration  for  my  family,  would  let  the  affair 
drop  when  she  became  convinced  that  I  was  the  guilty 
party ;  but  she  did  not,  and  when  I  demanded  an  an- 
swer to  the  proposal  I  made  a  week  or  two  after  you 
left,  she  thrust  his  vile  forgery  beneath  my  nose,  and  de- 
manded an  explanation. 

"This  you  gave?" 

"  No,  I  did  not — she  did  not  give  me  the  opportunity. 
Oh,  her  anger,  her  indignation,  was  sublime  ;  and  she 
was  not  afraid  to  express  it — expressed  it  in  such  a  way 
that  no  Gachet  had  ever  to  listen  to  before.  Her  words 
stung  me  like  a  thousand  scorpions,  until,  unable  to  en- 
dure her  denunciations  any  longer,  I  rushed  from  her 
presence,  swearing  eternal  vengeance  against  her,  you, 
and  especially  against  the  man  who  had  betrayed  me  into 
so  dishonorable j^  position.  That  night  was  the  last  time 
I  have  ever  seen  her." 

"But  sureh'  you  wrote,  explaining  it  all?" 

"  I  have  written,  but  only  in  the  last  few  days  ;  and 
— audit  is  here,"  motiouing  towards  his  breast  pocket. 
"  My  object  in  seeking  this  interview — the  favor  I  ask 
at  your  hands,  is  its  safe  dL4ivery.  Will  you  undertake 
the  mission?" 

"  Most  assuredly  I  will." 

"It  is  in  the  breast  pocket  of  my  coat — a  package  ad- 
dressed to  her.      I  feel  easy  in  asking  this  favor  of  you, 


248  LEON   AND    WYNDSHIP. 

knowing  full  well  that  it  will  not  be  a,  disagreeable  task. 
Then,  too,  I  want  j^ou  to  see  her  again — to  arouse  into  fresh 
vigor  all  your  old  infatuation  ;  and — and  I  wont  her  to 
know  that  you  are  an*  officer  in  the  '  Yankee  army.'  I 
am  plaj^ing  for  revenge  all  around  ;  and — and  I  will  get 
it.  Even  in  death  the  Gaehets  are  never  defeated." 
Leon  paused,  panting  for  breath,  his  black  eyes  gleam- 
ing with  vengeful  exultation. 

"You  think  it  strange,"  he  continued,  after  a  mo- 
ment, "  that  I  have  w^aited  so  long  without  making  an 
effort  to  free  myself  from  so  false  a  position,  but  that  is 
because  3'ou  do  not  know  us — the  Gaehets.  She  ought 
to  have  known  better  than  to  even  suspect  me  of  such  a 
piece  of  villainy.  The  suspicion  alone,  Avithout  her  bit- 
ter scorn  and  reproaches,  was  an  insult  almost  past  for- 
giveness. A^hy  should  I  care  for  the  good  opinion  of 
one  wiio  could  think  so  meanly  of  me  ?  It  is  not  for 
love  of  her,  or  of  3'ou,  that  I  am  making  this  explana- 
tion ;  but  it  is  the  last  chance  I  shall  have  for  revenge 
on  Slaton,  and  to  balk  his  little  game." 

"And  have  you  never  settled  with  him?  " 

"  No — that  night  I  failed  to  find  him — the  scoundrel 
kept  out  of  my  way  for  months.  When  I  did  at  last 
succeed  in  obtaining  an  interview,  the  cowardly  hound 
swore — almost  on  his  knees — that  he  did  not  intend  it — 
that  it  was  an  innocent  mistake.  I  did  not  believe  him, 
but  what  could  I  do  ?  I  could  not  kill  a  man  wdio  would 
resent  nothing — besides,  he  promised,  voluntarily  prom- 
ised, to  make  the  explanation  to  her,  and  assume  all  the 
blame.  I  have  waited  for  him  to  do  this,  but  instead, 
he  is  now  in  Georgia,  a  detailed  commissary  captain, 
spending  the  time  that  belongs  to  his  country  in  making 
love  to  the  woman  who,  if  she  knew  the  truth,  would 
spurn  him  as  if  he  was  a  toad." 

"  She  shall  know  it,"  cried  Wjmdship,  striding  back 
and  forth  across  the  narrow  space,  quivering  all  over 
with  anger  and  excitement.  "  She  shall  know^  it — I  will 
see  to  that — and  besides,  he  will  have  me  to  settle  with. 
I  will  punish  him  for  that  day's  work,  no  matter  what 
the  cost  may  be." 

"  You  intend  to  return  to  Georgia,  then?  "  whispered 
Leon,  eagerly. 

"  Return?  Do  you  suppose  that  anything,  any  ties, 
any  duties,  any  dangers  could  keep  me  away?" 


BELLEVIEW.  249 

A  curious  smile  came  over  Leon's  pale  face. 

"  Aye  !  "  he  cried  gleefully,  although  his  power  of 
speech  was  almost  gone  ;  "  go.  Go  and  take  another 
look  at  the  woman  you  have  lost— rat  the  prize  out  of 
which  Slaton  has  cheated  you.  The  sight  will  do  you 
good.  She  is  a  true  daughter  of  the  South — of  the 
Southern  Confederacy — and  no  matter  how  much  she 
may  love  you,  she  will  never  be  your  wife  —will  never 
marry  one  who  wears  the  Yankee  uniform.  My  tor- 
ment ends  to-night — yours  will  continue — you  have  none 
the  advantage.  But  go ;  the  sight  will  do  you  good — 
will  increase  your  own  regrets,  and — will  nerve  your 
hand  to  choke  Slaton's  miserable  soul  out  of 
his  contemptible  body.  Go  ;  in  all  probability  you  will 
find  him  seated  by  her  side." 

These  words  sent  a  chill  through  Wyndship's  heart. 
Was  it  true  that  she  would  now  reject  him  on  account 
of  his  service  in  the  Union  army  ?  Had  this  explanation 
come  too  late  ?  and  was  fate  still  pursuing  him  with  her 
relentless  frowns  ?  Two  years — two  long  and  hopeless 
years  had  passed,  and  possibly  her  love  for  him  had  died 
out.  Maybe  there  were  some  grounds  for  Leon's  insinu- 
ations that  Slaton  had,  or  was  worming  himself  into  her 
regards.  Was  the  unexpected  happiness  that  had  come 
to  him  to-night  only  a  deceptive  "  Will-o'-the-Wisp  " 
that  Avould  vanish  almost  before  he  could  realize  its 
brightness?  These  thoughts  made  him  sick  at  heart, but 
they  did  not  decrease  his  wrath. 

''  Nevertheless,"  he  hissed  between  his  clenched  teeth, 
"  I  have  a  duty  to  perform.  I  must  go  to  warn  her — 
to  enlighten  her,  and — to  kill  him." 

A  sudden  light  blazed  up  in  Leon's  eyes,  over  which 
the  film  of  death  was  gathering.  With  almost  super- 
human strength,  he  half  raised  himself  on  his  pallet,  and 
with  his  sound  arm  outstretched  to  giA'e  emphasis  to  his 
words,  he  gasped : 

"Do  this — kill  him — kill  the  scoundrel,  and  my  dying 
prayer  will  be  for  God  to  strengthen  your  arm.     Aye,  I 

could  almost  hope  you "  but  the  effort  was  too  much 

for  his  vital  powers,  and   he    dropped    back    exhausted. 

"  Here — in  this  pocket — the  packet — give  to "     The 

last  of  the  sentence  was  never  uttered.  The  bloody 
froth  oozed  out  of  his  mouth  and  nose,  A  few  useless 
gasps  and  sti'uggles,  and — he  was  dead. 


250     MISERY    OF    CERTAINTY ALSO    OF    UNCERTAINTY. 

"Wyndship  sprang  quickly  to  the  door  to  call  assist- 
ance, and  then  back  to  the  side  of  his  late  enemy ;  but 
Leon  was  beyond  the  reach  of  any  earthly  aid.  His 
proud,  passionate,  vindictive  spirit  had  taken  its  flight 
to  the  presence  of  his  Maker.  As  he  had  lived,  so  he 
had  died,  and  so  he  must  be  judged  ;  unless  a  merciful 
God  will  admit  as  extenuating  circumstances  the  influ- 
ences that  had  surrounded  his  life,  and  the  traditions  that 
had  come  with  his  birth. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  MISERY  OF  CERTAINTY ALSO  OF  UNCERTAINTY. 

Though  travelling  with  as  much  expedition  as  the  un- 
settled condition  of  the  country  permitted,  Wyndship 
did  not  get  home  in  time  to  see  his  mother  alive.  The 
day  before  he  arrived  she  died  ;  and  only  the  cold,  sense- 
less clay  of  her  who  had  been  his  truest  friend  and  most 
devoted  lover,  was  left  to  greet  his  coming.  This  sec- 
ond blow  was  too  much,  almost,  for  his  reason  to  en- 
dure. In  one  short  week  he  had  lost,  everything  that 
made  life  desirable — every  incentive  to  ambition,  every 
hope  of  happiness,  and  every  tie  of  duty  that  bound 
him  to  an  earthly  existence.  Like  one  dazed  by  a  blow 
on  the  head,  he  followed  her  body  to  its  last  resting 
place  in  the  village  grave-yard,  scarcely  conscious  of 
where  he  was,  or  from  vrhat  source  had  come  all  his 
misfortunes.  The  extent  of  the  disasters  alone  made 
an  impression  on  his  paralyzed  senses,  swallowing  up  all 
the  details  in  the  density  of  its  cloud.  Stupefied  by 
the  shock,  he  lost  all  animation,  all  interest  in  surround- 
ing objects,  and  passed  by  the  friends  and  scenes  of 
his  youth  without  a  sign  of  recognition.  One  thought 
he  kept  repeating  to  himself,  as  if  it  alone  had  fash- 
ioned itself  into  a  coherent  shape  amidst  the  confusion 
of  his  mind — that  fate  had  done  its  worst  and  could  bring 
no  other  trouble  he  needed  to  fear,  unless  it  burdened  him 
with  many  years  of  life.  If  now  it  would  only  rid  him 
of  this  dread,  he  would  ask  of  it  no  other  boon. 

But  fortunately  for  his  sanity,  this  condition  could  not 
last  always  ;  and  after  the  first  few  weeks   there  came  a 


liELLEVIEW.  251 

change  in  the  nature  of  his  despair.  He  became '  rest- 
less and  dissatisfied  with  his  quiet  life  at  home,  and 
longed  for  a  change  of  scenes,  and  for  some  excitement 
which  would  shorten  the  long  and  tiresome  days — which 
would  distract  his  attention  from  the  misery,  whose  only 
cure,  as  he  believed,  would  be  death.  In  obedience  to 
this  feeling,  he  started  west,  hoping  to  find  in  its  wild, 
rough  life,  the  desired  panacea. 

He  was  in  Chicago  when  the  first  news  of  the  bom- 
bardment of  Fort  Sumter  was  telegraphed  through 
the  North,  setting  the  country  ablaze  with  ex- 
citement. Although  not  affected  by  this  excitement, 
still  the  news  changed  his  plans.  "Where,  he  thought, 
could  he  more  certainly  find  the  distraction  he  was  seek- 
ing than  in  the  anny  ?  And  if  it  came  to  a  war,  where 
could  he  find,  in  a  speedier  or  more  honorable  manner, 
the  wished-for  anod3me  of  death  ?  He  stopped  and  hes- 
itated ;  not  that  he  was  debating  the  question  with  him- 
self— the  turmoil  in  his  mind  did  not  admit  of  his  debat- 
ing any  question — but  he  hesitated,  just  as  many  an- 
other ruined  and  hopeless  man  hesitates  as  to  which 
gin  shop,  AYhich  gambling  den,  or  which  vile  brothel  he 
would  select  as  the  pool  in  which  to  temporarily  drown 
tormenting  memories.  He  did  not  flatter  himself  that 
he  was  prompted  by  any  patriotic  motives  ;  still,  this 
sentiment,  unconsciously  to  himself,  did  influence  his  de- 
cision. For  Elma  he  would  have  sacrificed  his  duty  to 
country,  but  this  bribe  was  no  longer  offered,  and  if  he 
had  no  use  for  his  life,  at  least  his  country  was  entitled 
to  the  miserable  remnant  that  was  left.  Consequently, 
after  a  week's  indecision,  he  returned  home  determined 
to  join  some  regiment  of  Pennsylvania  troops. 

At  home  his  sister  informed  him  that  a  short  time 
after  his  departure,  a  letter  postmarked  Somerville, 
G-a.,  had  come  for  him,  and  that,  knowing  that  Omaha 
was  one  of  his  points  of  destination  when  he  left,  she 
had  inclosed  it  with  one  of  hers  and  forwarded  it  to  that 
point.  He  at  once  surmised  that  the  letter  was  from 
Mrs.  Martin,  but  had  no  suspicion  of  the  good  news  it 
contained  ;  news  of  which,  as  it  was  never  returned  from 
Omaha,  he  remained  in  unhappy  ignorance  until  the  bat- 
tle of  Gettysburg  revealed  it  in  a  strange  and  unex- 
pected manner.  He  wrote  a  short  note  in  answer  to  Mrs. 
Martin's,  telling  her  of  his  condition  and  purposes  ;  reveal- 


252   ^nSERY  OF  CERTAINTY ALSO  OF  UNCERTAINTf. 

ing  his  intention  of  forcing  from  fate  a  death  on  the  first 
battlefield;  but  this,  as  we  have  seen,  also  went  astray. 

The  writing  of  this  reply,  and  even  the  mention  by 
his  sister  of  a  letter  from  that  village  in  Georgia,  stirred 
his  bitterness  to  its  depth,  and  made  him  all  the  more 
eager  to  get  away  to  the  front.  If  as  a  soldier  Wynd- 
ship  was  not  actuated  by  the  highest  patriotic  motives — 
motives  that  have  produced  heroes  from  every  age  and 
people  ;  still,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  be^^ond  the  in- 
fluence of  the  fear  of  death,  and  risked  his  life  in  bat- 
tles with  an  almost  insane  recklessness.  Still,  fate  de- 
nied him  the  end  he  was  seeking,  carrying  him  safely 
through  storms  of  shot  and  shell,  where  it  seemed  im- 
possible for  human  life  to  exist ;  and  bringing,  instead, 
the  less  valued  boon  of  promotion.  There  also  came  a 
reward  that  was  still  better ;  a  partial  cure  for  the  mor- 
bid condition  of  his  mind  and  heart.  No  true  man  can 
devote  all  his  energies  to  any  cause  that  has  a  true  or 
apparent  foundation  in  justice  but  what  it  will  sooner  or 
later  enlist  his  sympathies  in  its  support.  So  with 
him,  the  dormant  spark  of  patriotism  that  he  pos- 
sessed at  first,  gradually  grew,  making  him  all  the  better 
Union  soldier,  until  at  the  time  our  tale  has  reached,  he 
had  won  by  merit  alone  the  rank  of  Major  of  volun- 
teers ;  and  if  the  old  wound  was  still  unhealed,  if  the 
future  was  still  unlit  by  the  rays  of  hope,  if  there  was 
no  golden  apple  of  future  happiness  hanging  before  the 
eyes  of  his  ambition  ;  yet  duty  had,  in  a  measure,  taken 
the  place  of  all  these  incentives.  Obedience  to  the  in- 
junction, "Whatsoever  thine  hand  findeth  to  do,  do 
it  with  all  thy  might,"  will  prevent  life  with  any  one 
from  being  altogether  a  vacuum.  He  had  come  to  this 
condition,  when  on  the  evening  of  that  ever-memorable 
July  the  third,  he  stumbled  across  the  almost  lifeless 
body  of  Leon  Gachet. 

This  meeting  proved  that  the  partial  peace  he  had  ob- 
tained with  the  past  was,  after  all,  only  a  poor  and  mis- 
erable truce.  It  was  like  tearing  open  with  rude,  unfeeling 
hands,  a  wound  that  had  commenced  to  heal,  rendering 
its  second  condition  even  more  painful  than  the  first. 
No  wonder  that  he  momentaril}^  hesitated  in  giving  his 
aid  to  this  enemy,  whom  he  regarded  as  being  in  some 
way  connected  with  that  note  and  return  of  the  flowers. 
No  wonder  that  he  felt  such  strong  repugnance  to  an  in- 


BELLi:\  ii:av.  253 

terview  iu  which  he  expected  to  receive  this  enemy's 
hist  message  of  love  to  the  woman  who  had  wronged  him 
so  cruell}^,  but  whose  image  was  still  deeply  engraved  on 
the  fragments  of  his  heart.  But  it  is  often  in  the  per- 
formance of  the  most  disagreeable  duty  that  we  receive 
the  greatest  reward. 

AYyndship  had  Leon's  body  decently  interred,  and 
marked  the  place  so  that  he  could  point  it  out  to  his 
friends,  should  they  ever  desire  to  remove  the  remains 
back  to  Georgia.  He  then  wrote  a  short  account  of  his 
death  and  burial  to  his  father,  which  he  sent  through 
the  lines  by  the  first  flag  of  truce.  The  packet  for  Elma 
he  did  not  send — he  could  not  trust  it  to  the  chances  it 
must  run  of  being  lost  on  the  way.  No  ;  he  had  prom- 
ised the  dead  man  that  it  should  be  safely  delivered  into  her 
hands  by  himself  in  person,  and  this  duty  he  must  not 
shirk.  Besides,  it  presented  a  valid  excuse  for  another 
interview ;  a  privilege  he  both  longed  for  and  dreaded — 
longed  for  because  of  the  revival  of  all  the  old  passion 
in  undiminished  force  ;  and  dreaded  because  of  that 
drop  of  bitterness  which  Leon  had  contrived  to  mix 
with  the  good  news  he  imparted.  When  he  thought  of 
how  this  high-spirited  girl,  devoted  to  her  cause,  would 
regard  one  bearing  arms  against  her  country,  his  judg- 
ment or  fears  told  him  that  this  new  hope  would,  after 
all,  prove  only  a  deception.  Still,  with  his  past  experi- 
ence, he  resolved  not  to  take  a  dismissal  again,  except 
from  her  own  lips — no  trick,  no  misapprehension  should 
ever  come  between  them  again.  If  she  had  forgotten 
the  old  love,  or  if  his  serving  in  the  Northern  army 
should  prove  the  unpardonable  sin,  then — well,  there 
must  some  time  come  an  end  to  all  things. 

It  was  easier  to  come  to  the  resolution  of  going 
in  person  to  Belleview  than  it  was  to  put  it  in  execution 
afterwards.  True,  he  might  resign  his  commission  and 
no  doubt  could  safely  work  his  way  through  the  lines  ; 
nor  did  the  danger  he  might  run  of  being  captured  and 
treated  as  a  spy  deter  him  from  adopting  this  course. 
Patriotism  and  conscience  however,  objected  ;  besides, 
his  sympathies  had  been  enlisted  with  the  Union  side, 
and  it  looked  like  a  traitorous  act  to  forsake  his  country 
in  this,  the  most  critical  time  of  the  war ;  an  act  which 
he  felt  assured  w^ould  not  raise  him  in  her  estimation. 
These  considerations  prevented  him  from  resigning,  al- 


254       MISERY    OF    CERTAINTY ALSO    OF    FXCERTAIXTY* 

though  he  knew  in  his  heart  that  shonld  she  deniand  of 
him  the  abandonment  of  his  cause,  he  would  obey  un- 
hesitatingly, just  as  he  did  when  Georgia  seceded. 

To  wait  until  after  the  war  was  over  was  impossible  ; 
it  might  drag  on  for  years,  and  there  was  no  telling  what 
might  happen  in  the  meantime.  No,  duty  called  liim  to 
Somerville  at  the  earliest  possible  moment — if  for  no 
other  purpose — to  reveal  Slaton's  treacherj^  and  to  lay 
Ibare  his  nefarious  plots.  He  did  not  attach  much  im- 
portance to  Leon's  insinuation  that  Arthur  was  likely  to 
he  a  successful  rival,  and  after  his  first  heat  of  anger 
was  over  he  no  longer  entertained  the  intention  of  taking 
the  rascal's  life  on  sight ;  still,  he  desired  and  intended 
he  should  be  punished,  nevertheless. 

The  most  feasible  plan  that  presented  itself  to  his 
Judgment  at  first,  was  to  secure  an  appointment  on  some 
commission  or  cartel  that  might  be  sent  inside  the  Con- 
federate lines  ;  when,  he  thought,  it  would  not  be  im- 
i:)Ossible  to  make  a  hurried  visit  to  Belleview.  Adopting 
this  idea,  he  waited  and  watched  for  such  nn  opportu- 
nity, but  the  fall  passed  without  its  coming,  each  day 
making  him  more  restless  and  impatient  with  the  delay ; 
a  delay  that  it  was  impossible  to  foresee  whether  it  might 
end  the  next  day  or  be  prolonged  indefinitely. 

During  the  fall  the  advance  of  Rosencranz  into  Geor- 
gia attracted  his  attention  as  probably  offering  the  de- 
sired opportunity  should  the  campaign  be  successful ; 
but  before  he  could  act  upon  it  by  securing  a  transfer 
to  that  army,  the  brittle  of  Chickamiauga  most  effectually 
destroyed  this  chance  for  the  season.  Disheartened  and 
impatient  with  a  delay  that  grew  more  unbearable  from 
its  tantalizing  disappointments  and  uncertainties,  he 
had  about  made  up  his  mind  to  adopt  the  quicker  though 
less  honorable  course  of  quitting  the  army,  when  Grant's 
victory  of  Missionary  Ridge  put  an  entirely  new  aspect 
on  the  condition  of  affairs  in  North  Georgia.  The  con- 
queror of  Vicksburg  had  come  to  the  front,  and  under 
his  bold  and  aggressive  leadership  there  was  a  chance  that 
during  the  next  campaign  Atlanta  might  be  made  to 
suffer  the  same  fate  as  her  sister  city  by  the  great 
river.  Besides,  it  was  much  nearer  the  "  Mecca  of  his 
hopes  "  than  Virginia ;  and  if  he  decided  on  trying  to 
slip  through  the  lines,  the  chances,  lie  thought,  would  be 
bettfiifor  success.  Whether  or  not  there  had  been  any  out- 


BELLEVIEW.  255 

ward  change  in  Wyndship's  efficiency  as  a  Union  sol- 
dier we  cannot  say,  but  undoubtedly  in  his  heart  there 
was  quite  a  revolution.  He  no  longer  desired  success 
for  the  good  of  his  country"  only ;  he  no  longer  calcu- 
lated on  the  results  of  movements  and  battles  as  they 
affected  the  Union  cause  simply ;  but  above  these  con- 
siderations there  was  one  of  greater  importance  to  him, 
and  that  was  to  reach  Belle  view  as  soon  as  possible.  A 
victory  that  would  hasten  this  event  was  of  more  im- 
portance than  the  defeat  of  Lee's  army ;  and  the  occu- 
pation of  Central  Georgia  was  more  to  be  desired  than 
the  capture  of  Kichmond.  Influenced  by  these  consid- 
erations, he  obtained  a  transfer  to  the  army  at  Chatta- 
nooga, and  the  spring  of  '64  found  him  serving  under 
Sherman,  and  with  longing  eyes,  lit  by  other  fires  than 
those  of  patriotism,  looking  anxiously  southward. 


CHASTE 


if&kj^G^'THE  GOAL. 

One  afternoon  during  the  first  part  of  the  month  of 
December,  1864,  a  horseman  was  riding  along  the  road 
that  led  from  the  north  by  Belleview  into  Somerville.  A 
cold,  drizzling  rain  had  been  falling  during  the  day,  and 
although  it  had  ceased,  the  clouds  still  obscured  the  sun. 
Away  to  the  west  a  streak  of  light  gave  promise  of  bet- 
ter weather  for  the  morrow,  but  overhead  and  around  all 
was  cheerless  and  gloomy.  The  leafless  branches  of  the 
oak  brush  that  lined  the  road  looked  dreary,  the  sodden 
leaves  at  their  feet  scarcely  stirred,  while  overhead  the 
sombre,  dark-green  tufts  of  the  pines  swayed  and 
moaned  wdth  doleful  agony  in  the  wintry  w^ind.  Even 
the  water-soaked  sand  of  the  road  yielded  with  a  soft 
complaining  splash  to  the  horse's  hoofs,  as  if  meekly 
murmuring  against  an  unavoidable  intrusion.  Nature, 
in  sympatby  with  the  time,  had  taken  on  its  garb  of 
mourning — mourning  for  the  desolation  it  could  not 
brighten,  for  the  crime  and  misery  it  could  not  banish. 

The  mud  splashes  on  the  traveller's  water-proof  over- 
coat, as  well  as  the  tired  and  bedraggled  appearance  of 
his  horse,  showed  that  he  had  been  riding  all   day  ;  but 


256  NEARIXG   THE    GOAL. 

it  was  not  weariness  that  caused  those  lines  of  anxiety 
in  the  eager  face.  It  was  AYyndship  on  his  waj^  to  make 
the  visit  upon  which  liis  heart  had  been  set  for  more 
than  twelve  months  past.  It  was  with  great  difficult}^ 
and  only  after  a  positive  threat  to  resign,  that  he  ob- 
tained a  leave  of  absence  on  the  eve  of  the  advance 
from  Atlanta.  Hanging  on  to  the  rear  of  the  right 
wing  of  the  Federal  arnn^,  he  had  followed  its  move- 
ments until  it  had  passed  as  near  Somerville  as  it  would 
come,  and  then  boldly  struck  off  through  the  country 
alone.  By  attaching  himself  to  one  of  the  marauding 
detachments  that  spread  desolation  for  miles  on  each 
side  of  the  main  colunin,  he  might  have  greatly  de- 
creased the  risks  he  was  ruuningj  but  he  had  already 
witnessed  too  much  rapine  and  outrage  to  desire  such 
protection.  His  cheeks  had  too  often  burned  with  shame 
at  the  disgraceful  barbarit}^  which  mnrked  evei'y  step  of 
the  invading  army — a  barbarity  which,  in  his  eyes, 
brought  ignominy  on  a  righteous  cause — for  him  to  accept 
such  company,  despite  the  warnings  of  his  comrades  of 
the  danger  he  would  run  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
maddened  rebels,  smarting  from  defeat,  and  enraged  at 
the  wholesale  destruction  of  their  homes.  In  one  par- 
ticular, however,  he  did  unfortunately  follow  their  ad- 
vice, and  that  was  to  secure  a  suit  of  home-made  jeans 
clothing  which  was  worn  by  all  the  Southern  citizens  at 
that  time  ;  but  so  repugnant  did  he  feel  towards  assum- 
ing anj^thing  like  a  disguise,  that  he  stowed  this  suit 
safely  away  in  his  saddle-pockets,  and  continued  to 
wear  his  usual  uniform. 

The  last  ten  months  had  been  an  extremely  irksome 
period  to  ^Vyndship.  Like  many  of  his  brother  officers, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  campaign  he  believed  that  the 
battle  of  Missionary  Ridge  had  so  completely  destroyed 
the  morale  of  the  Confederate  army  in  their  front,  that 
no  serious  opposition  could  be  made  to  their  advance.  But 
Johnston's  generalship  soon  converted  the  anticipated 
pleasure-tramp  through  Georgia.into  a  very  serious  affair. 
It  was  to  be  no  May-day  picnic,  illuminated  by  the  burning 
of  bridges  and  towns,  and  enlivened  by  the  hanging  of  a 
few  bitter  rebels.  During  all  the  checks  and  delays 
that  retarded  Sherman's  advance,  he  chafed  with  impa- 
tience at  the  deferment  of  his  hopes,  and  often  oould 
scarcely  resist  the  desire  to  cut  loose  from  the  army, 


BELLEVIEW.  l-H 

and  try  to  reach  Somerville  through  the  lines.  The 
longing  to  visit  Belleview  again,  to  reveal  Slaton's  treach- 
ery, and  to  see  Elma  Owens  once  more,  had  driven  every 
other  idea  from  his  mind.  He  thought  little  of  the 
Union  cause,  and  we  fear  would  have  cared  but  little 
what  the  result  of  the  campaign  might  have  been,  had 
it  not  been  indissolubly  connected  with  his  chances  for 
carrying  out  this  private  undertaking.  Not  that  he  had 
lost  all  his  patriotism  and  become  a  renegade  in  heart, 
but  this  other  purpose — this  other  passion — had  overpow- 
ered every  other  consideration.  He  had  convinced  him- 
self that  his  mission  was  a  sacred  trust,  for  the  purpose 
of  removing  a  stain  from  the  memory  of  a  dead  man — 
that  it  was  a  duty  he  owed  to  the  woman  he  loved,  and 
who  had  once  loved  him — that  the  revealing  of  a  villain's 
treachery  was  a  task  in  the  interest  of  right  and  justice 
which  his  hands  alone  could  execute.  This  was  what 
he  told  himself,  but  there  was  another  reason — another 
impelling  force  more  potent  still. 

And  now  he  was  approaching  the  Mecca  of  his  hopes 
— beyond  the  timber  on  the  left  Belleview  would  come 
in  view ;  aye,  already  through  the  leafless  tree-tops  he 
had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  roof.  His  heart  beat  rap- 
idly, the  blood  surged  tumultuously  through  his  veins — 
his  face  became  more  anxious,  the  e3"es  more  strained 
with  eager  anticipations  and — sickening  fear.  Once 
more  his  eyes  would  rest  on  that  lovely  face,  his  ears 
catch  the  music  of  that  voice — the  sweetest  music  that 
ever  thrilled  a  human's  hearing.  And  to  clasp  her  hand 
once  more — surely,  she  would  not  refuse  him  that — she 
might  never  forgive  his  being  a  Union  soldier,  might 
look  with  scorn  and  contempt  on  the  uniform  he  wore — 
probably  she  had  long  since  expelled  all  tender  thoughts 
of  him  from  her  heart ;  but  then,  she  would  at  least 
grant  him  this  favor — to  touch  her  hand,  and  to  hear  her 
voice.  This  itself  would  repay  for  all  those  years  of 
sorrow  and  waiting,  for  all  the  toil  and.  anxiet}^,  for  all 
the  dangers  he  was  now  risking,  even  were  they  tenfold 
greater.  After  this,  and  after  delivering  into  her  hands 
the  packet  Leon  had  entrusted  to  him,  he  would  go  on 
his  way,  if  not  content,  at  least  in  resignation  to  what- 
ever future  fate  might  have  in  store. 

"What  was  the  matter  with  his  horse  ?  Was  he  sick — 
had  he  given  out?    Had  his  limbs  become  wood,  his  ten- 


^58  NEARING   THE    GOAL. 

dons  rotten  strings,  that  he  could  only  move  at  a  snail's 
pace?  Oh,  the  suspense,  growing  more  cruel  as  the 
minutes  grew  fewer !  Oh,  the  turmoil  of  hope,  doubt, 
joy,  and  despair !  The  strip  of  woodland  was  passed, 
and  there  was  the  lawn  with  its  tree-lined  avenue,  the 
vine  and  shubbery-embowered  house.  There  was  the 
gate  leading  in  from  the  road — but  wide  open — and — 
what  is  that?  A  cavalry-man  in  blue  uniform,  nodding 
in  his  saddle,  evidently  an  unreliable  vidette. 

Wyndship  started  and  glanced  quickly  around,  but  no 
other  soldier  was  in  sight.  The  blue  overcoat  did  not 
mdicate  with  certainty  to  which  army  the  sentinel  be- 
longed, for  many  of  Wheeler's  cavalry  wore  the  same, 
and  it  would  have  been  hard  for  our  hero  to  have  de- 
cided just  then  which  he  would  have  preferred  him  to  be. 
If  to  the  Federal  army,  it  might  mean  pillage  and  out- 
rage at  Belleview ;  if  to  the  other,  capture  and  Ander- 
sonville  for  himself.  But  neither  of  these  considera- 
tions caused  him  to  check  his  horse's  gait.  Nodding  and 
reeling  in  his  saddle,  th^  sentinel  was  evidently  too 
sleepy  or — something  else — for  the  important  duty  he 
w^as  performing,  and  was  entirel}^  oblivious  of  any  one's 
approach  until  a  movement  of  his  horse,  which  came 
near  unseating  him,  recalled  his  wandering  senses.  As 
quickly  as  his  befuddled  condition  would  permit,  he 
cocked  and  attempted  to  level  his  carbine  on  W^mdship, 
who,  in  the  meantime,  had  almost  reached  his  side. 

"  Haltsh  (hie).  Haltsh,  I  shay  (hie) — who  goes 
there?" 

But  Wyndship  had  him  already  covered  with  his  pis- 
tol, and  in  threatening  tones  that  meant  business,  or- 
dered him  to  *'  di'op  that  gun."  The  threat  and  the 
menacing  muzzle  acted  like  a  charm  in  clearing  his 
mind  sufficiently  to  realize  the  necessity  of  obedience, 
and  the  gun  came  down. 

"What  command  do  you  belong  to  ;  and  what  are  you 
doing  here?  " 

In  answer,  the  man  named  a  regiment  of  Federal 
cavalry,  and  stated  that  he  had  been  left  at  the  gate  as 
a  vidette  by  his  squad,  who  had  gone  up  to  the  house. 
He  was  not  so  drunk  but  what  he  recognized  some  of 
Wyndship's  outfit  as  that  of  a  Federal  officer,  and  re- 
lieved of  his  fear  of  *'  Johnnie  Eeb,"  answered  the  oth- 
er's questions   freely  and  with  drunken    indifference. 


BELLEVIEW.  259 

"While  the  brief  colloquy  was  going  on,  they  were  inter- 
rupted by  the  sharp  report  of  a  fire-arm  in  the  direction 
of  the  house. 

^'That  shouuds  (hie)  like  a  scrim "  but  the  re- 
mark was  cut  short,  for  driving  his  spurs  into  his  horse's 
flanks,  Wyndship  darted  through  the  open  gate  and  up 
the  avenue.  The  little  gate  in  the  hedge  was  also  wide 
open,  and  through  it  he  went  without  abating  his  speed, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  a  scene  being  enacted  around  the  door- 
steps. Standing  about  in  the  gravelled  walks  and  on 
the  flower  beds  were  four  cavalry  horses,  only  one  of 
which  was  mounted.  Two  men  were  struggling  with 
Colonel  Gachet  on  the  steps,  while  another  was  holding 
back  a  girl,  who,  with  shrieks  of  horror,  was  endeavor- 
ing to  reach  and  grasp  the  pistol  which  was  threatening 
the  old  man's  life.  One  glance  had  been  sufficient  to 
show  him  that  this  was  only  a  repetition  of  those  scenes 
that  had  so  often  of  late  brought  a  flush  of  shame  to 
his  cheeks — an  old  man  endeavoring  to  guard  the  sanc- 
tity of  his  home,  and  to  protect  his  family  from  insult 
and  outrage. 

*'  Hold  ! "  he  shouted.     "  Stand  back— stop,  I  say." 

The  noise  of  his  horse's  feet  had  already  warned  them 
of  his  approach,  and  the  three  had  instinctively  released 
their  victims  and  sprung  toward  their  horses,  but  stopped 
when  they  saw  he  was  alone. 

J' What  means  such  conduct  as  this?  "he  cried,  his 
Yoice  hoarse  with  anger  and  indignation.  *'  How  dare 
you?  "  and  springing  from  his  horse  he  hastened  to  place 
himself  between  them  and  the  steps. 

''  Boys,  there's  only  one  of  'em,  *n'  I  guess  he's  a 
rebel,"  said  the  one  on  horseback,  reassuringly  to  his  com- 
rades. "  We  can  pretty  quick  fix  him,  and  then  make 
the  old  man  tell  where  his  gold  and  silver  is,  or  jest  fin- 
ish up  our  job,"  he  continued,  making  ready  with  his 
gun.  By  one  swift  glance  Wyndship  ascertained  that 
neither  Mollie  nor  the  Colonel  had  been  seriously  in- 
jured, and  then  again  faced  the  squad. 

*'  How  dare  you  commit  such  outrages  as  these?"  he 
demanded. 

''  I  don't  know  that  it's  any  of  your  business,  young 
man,"  retorted  one,  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader. 

*'It  is  my  business,  and  I  will  also  make  it  my 
business  to  see  that  you  are  severely  punished  for  this." 


2 GO  NEARiXG    THE    GOAL. 

"The  hell  yoii  will." 

"  What  command  do  you  belong  to?" 

"We'd like  to  know  what  command  you  belong  to 
first,  young  *  cock  of  the  walk.'  " 

Choking  with  rage,  and  painfully  conscious  that  his 
threat  of  punishment  was  taken  at  its  true  value,  even 
if  he  was  a  member  of  the  staff  of  a  prominent  corps 
commander,  Wyndship  changed  his  tactics.  With  one 
hand  he  unbuttoned  his  waterproof  overcoat  and  threw 
back  the  folds,  so  as  to  reveal  the  uniform  he  wore,  while 
with  the  other  he  cocked  his  revolver. 

"I  am  Major  Wyndship,"  he  cried,  "  of  General 
Howard's  staff." 

"  Phew !  "  ejaculated  the  other  in  an  altered  tone. 

"  And,"  he  continued,  leveling  his  revolver  at  the  lead- 
er's head,  "I  give  you  just  two  minutes  to  get  out  of 
this  yard." 

*'Beg  pardon.  Major,"  answered  the  soldier,  with  a 
half-drunken  leer,  which   he   intended   as   conciliatory. 

*' We  didn't  know  you  officers  were    getting  so  d d 

particular  'bout  how  we  treated  these  old  rebels — ^we 
wus  only  trying  to  make  him  tell  where  his  money 
was." 

"  Leave  here,"  thundered  Wyndship,  "  or  I'll  shoot 
you  down  like  a  dog.  Leave  here  at  once — I'd  be  do- 
ing my  country  a  service  to  rid  it  of  such  a  disgrace  as 
you — you  cowardly  thief." 

The  habit  of  obedience  to  superiors,  or  the  deter- 
mined face  and  threatening  revolver,  or  all  together,  had 
their  effect,  and  with  sullen  looks  and  smothered  curses 
the  marauders  proceeded  to  obey.  Leading  his  horse  by 
the  bridle,  and  with  pistol  still  levelled  on  the  hindmost 
one,  Wyndship  followed  them  down  the  walk  and  out  of 
the  little  gate.  Here  they  were  joined  by  four  or  five 
others,  who  came  round  from  the  direction  of  the  horse 
lots  and  quarter.  There  was  shown  some  inclination 
towards  insubordination  when  thus  reinforced,  and  the 
order  to  leave  had  to  be  repeated  before  the  counsel  of 
the  soberer  ones  prevailed,  and  they  reluctantly  moved 
off  down  the  avenue.  Wyndship  watched  them  pass  out 
into  the  public  road  and  out  of  sight,  and  then,  hitching 
his  horse  to  a  post,  returned  to  the  house.  The  inmates 
had  disappeared  into  the  interior,  but  as  he  approached 
the  steps  Colonel  Gachet  came  out  on  the   porch.     His 


BELLE  VIEW.  201 

form,  that  had  become  bent  and  decrepit  by  sorrow  and 
anxiety,  was  now  drawn  to  its  full  heighth,  while  the 
faded  eyes  flashed  anew  with  rage  and  indignation.  He 
held  in  his  hands  the  double-barrel  shot  gun  which  had 
been  wrested  from  him  by  his  late  opponents,  and  seem- 
ingly ignoring  Wjmdship's  presence,  began  scanning 
the  shubbery  and  the  lawn  for  his  enemies. 

"  Colonel  Gachet,"  said  the  young  man,  anxiously, 
"  I  hope  you  nor  none  of  your  family  have  suffered  any 
personal  injury?  " 

"  My  wife  fainted,  sir,  during  the — the  disturbance, 
and  is  now  suffering  somewhat  from  nervous  excitement. 
I  am  unharmed,  and  so,  I  believe,  is  my  daughter." 

"  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  it,  and  hope  Mrs.  Gachet 
will  speedily  recover  from  this  shock." 

The  Colonel  bowed  stiffly,  his  eyes  overlooking  the 
speaker  who  stood  on  the  ground,  in  their  search  for  the 
others.  Interpreting  the  look,  Wyndship  said,  reassur- 
ingly : 

' '  They  are  all  gone  —  they  will  not  disturb  you 
again." 

' '  Ah  ?     Are  you  certain  ?  " 

"Yes.     I  saw  them  all  safely  into  the  public  road." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  regret  it ;  I  have  one  load  still  in  my 
gun,  and  would  desire  nothing  better  than  to  expend  it 
in  showing  them  how  an  old  citizen  of  Georgia  can  de- 
feud  his  home  and  family." 

The  absurdity  of  the  threat  was  obscured  by  the  in- 
tense earnestness  with  which  it  was  uttered.  It  was  also 
obscured,  as  far  as  his  auditor  was  concerned,  b}^  the 
awkwardness  of  his  own  position — he  did  not  know  but 
what  he  too  might  l)e  refused  admittance. 

"I  regret  far  more  than  I  can  express  that  you  nnd 
3"our  family  have  suffered  intrusion  and  indignities  from 
that  rabble,  and  am  truly  thankful  that  I  arrived  at  such 
an  opportune  moment." 

"  It  is  nothing  more,  sir,  I  believe,  than  has  been  the 
fate  of  thousands  of  other  peaceful  families  in  this 
State  ;  only  we  have  come  off  much  better  than  the  ma- 
jority ;  but  it  fires  my  blood  to  think  that  I,  a  free  citi- 
zen of  this  country — I,  who  have  spent  many  years  in 
the  service  of  the  '  Stars  and  Stripes' — should,  in  my 
old  age,  have  to  defend  the  sanctity  of  my    home   and 


262  NEARING   THE    GOAL. 

fireside  against  such  base  robbers,  wearing  the  uniform 
I  once  so  highly  respected." 

"All  armies  naturally  draw  tlie  viciously  inclined, 
who  seize  every  opportunity  for  plunder,"  said  "Wynd- 
ship,  with  increasing  color. 

"  And  yours,  sir — 3- our  vaunted  Union  ^rmj — seems 
composed  principalh^  of  that  material,  judging  from  the 
horrible  scenes  beiug  enacted  throughout  our  State. 
When  I  belonged  to  the  army,  the  American  soldier 
claimed  to  be  a  gentleman." 

"  I  hope  and  believe  that  the  majority  of  them  are 
gentlemen  yet." 

"  As  it  has  not  been  our  good  fortune  to  meet  with 
any  of  that  character,  we  must  judge  by  what  we  have 
seen." 

Wyndship  bit  his  lips  in  mortification.  He  had  come 
expecting  a  cold  reception,  and  had  determined  to  en- 
dure even  insults  until  his  mission  had  been  accom- 
plished, but  when  it  came  to  the  test  his  sensitive  spirit 
chafed  more  than  he  thought.  Without  an  invitation 
now,  he  could  not  possibly  enter  those  doors.  The  old 
man's  passion  was  subsiding,  however,  and  probably 
permitted  him  to  perceive  something  of  what  was  pass- 
ing in  the  young  man's  mind,  for  controlling  his  excite- 
ment by  a  strong  effort,  he  said,  with  a  touch  of  his  old- 
time  courtesy  : 

"  I  should  make  one  exception,  Mr. — I  beg  pardon — 
Major  Wyndship.  From  what  I  know  of  you  in  the 
past,  and  from  what  I  have  seen  this  evening,  I  estimate 
you  very  differently." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  good  opinion.     I " 

"What  surprises  me  most,  sir,"  interrupted  the 
Colonel,  "  is  that  an  honorable  gentleman  like  yourself 
should  be  in  command  of  such  wretches." 

"  I  beg  j^our  pardon— I  am  not  commanding  them." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,  sir,  and  I  doubt  not  but 
what  those  you  do  command  are  kept  under  better  dis- 
cipline." 

"  I  have  no  command,  I  came  here  alone." 

"Ah!"  ejaculated  the  Colonel  in  surprise,  and  in 
still  better  humor.  Then,  as  if  suddenly-  remembering 
his  want  of  politeness,  he  stepped  down  towarJ.  the  vis- 
itor with  extended  hand.  "  Excuse  me,  Mv.  — Major 
Wyndship,  I  am  ashamed  of  my  rudeness,  but  l — I  did 


BELLEVIEAV.  263 

not  intend  it  towards  3^011.  Your — that  sqtiad  of  ruf- 
fians so  enraged  me,  tliiit  I — I  forgot  ni^^self.  Walk  in, 
sir — ^walk  in.     You  are  a  welcome  visitor  to  Belleview." 

Before  they  reached  the  hall -door  Mollie  came  out  of 
her  mother's  room,  pale  and  excited. 

"Oh!  father,"  she  exclaimed — "  Elma — Tony  saj^s 
those  Yankee — Union  soldiers  went  off  in  the  direction 
of  Mrs.  Hall's.  Elma  will  meet  them.  What  shall  we 
do?"  She  hardly  looked  at  AY^mdship,  although  she 
extended  her  hand  in  greeting.  "  She  will  be  coming 
home,  and — "  But  her  father  did  not  wait  to  hear  any 
more.  With  some  incoherent  words,  addressed  to  no 
one  in  particular,  he  grasped  his  gun  and  started  down 
the  steps  as  fast  as  his  old  legs  would  carr}^  him. 

"  What?"  cried  Wyndship,  aghast.  "  In  Heaven's 
name.  Miss  Gachet,  you  do  not  mean  Elma — Miss  Ow- 
ens is  away  from  home,  and — alone?" 

''  Oh,  yes,"  she  exclaimed,  wringing  her  hands  in  an 
agony  of  suspense,  "she  went  to  Mrs.  Hall's  to-day, to 
see  Johnnie,  who  is  wounded.  We  thought  all  danger 
from  the  Yankees  was  past.  She  will  be  coming  home 
alone,  unless  Captain " 

Again  her  sentence  was  cut  short  for  the  want  of  an 
auditor,  for  Wyndship  as  abruptly  followed  the  Colonel's 
example.  Down  the  walk  to  his  horse  he  ran,  passing 
the  latter  on  the  way,  to  whom  he  shouted  his  purpose  of 
going  to  Miss  Owens'  assistance.  To  unhitch  and  to 
mount  was  the  work  of  an  instant,  and  without  a 
thought  of  the  tired  animal  beneath  him,  he  used  his 
spurs  unmercifully.  Past  the  gate  and  down  the  road 
which  he  knew  led  by  Mrs.  Hall's  residence,  he  went  at 
full  speed,  but  which  to  his  excited  apprehension,  now 
when  moments  had  become  hours,  seemed  no  faster 
than  a  snail's  pace.  The  feelings  that  were  excited  in 
his  brain  by  the  first  sight  of  the  bummers  at  Belleview 
were  nothing  to  what  Avas  raging  in  his  heart  just  now. 
In  imagination  he  could  see  Elma,  unprotected,  in  the 
power  and  at  the  mercy  of  the  drunken  rufiiaus,  subject 
to  insult  and — and  to  worse  ;  and  ruthlessl}^  he  drove 
the  spurs  into  his  horse's  panting  sides,  peering  anx- 
iously around  every  corner,  and  over  every  rise  in  the 
road.  The  distance  was  short,  and  was  being  rnpidly 
passed,  despite  the  anxiety  which  made  his  movements 
seem  so  slow ;  over  the  next  rise,  and  around  the  next 


264  JOHNNIE  hall's  present  of  service. 

turn,  and  Mrs.  Hall's  would  come  in  sight.  If  Elma 
would  only  remain  there  until  the  squad  had  passed — 
they  would  certainly  be  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  rejoin 
their  command,  which  had  already  passed  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Savannah,  and  too  much  afraid  of  the  vengeance 
of  the  Confederate  cavalry  that  might  be  following  them 
up,  to  dare  to  make  any  more  raids  on  private  families. 
But  it  was  growing  late  in  the  afternoon  ;  the  sun  would 
soon  set — and  then,  too,  Mollie  said  Elma  would  be  com- 
ino-  home. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JOHNNIE  hall's  PRESENT  OF  SERVICE. 

The  last  hill,  or  "  rise"  in  the  road  was  reached, 
and  the  gradual  ascent  was  quickly  being  overcome, 
when  his  eyes,  peering  eagerly  over,  beheld  a  sight  that 
for  an  instant  seemed  to  congeal  every  drop  of  blood  in 
his  veins  ;  and  the  next  to  send  it  in  lava  streams  to  the 
very  tip  ends  of  his  fingers.  At  the  same  time  his  eci'S 
caught  the  sounds  of  rude  and  boisterous  words  and 
laughter.  The  same  squad  that  he  had  driven  from 
Belleview  were  grouped  around  a  couple  of  riderless 
horses  in  the  road  (one  of  which  bore  a  lady's  saddle), 
all  occupied  in  watching  and  commenting  on  the  ma- 
noeuvres of  their  leader,  who,  swearing  with  eveiy 
l)reath,  still  was  evidently  afraid  to  close  in  on  his  prey. 
Back  in  a  corner  of  the  zigzag  rail  fence  stood  Ehna, 
one  hand  holding  a  pistol  levelled  on  the  drunken  brute. 
The  shouts  and  jeers  of  his  companions  urged  him  on  in 
the  execution  of  his  purpose,  but  even  his  whiskey-be- 
fogged brain  understood  the  expression  of  the  flashing 
e3^es  and  pale,  determined  face  in  liis  front  too  well  to 
dare  the  venture  forward.  The  deep  wet  sand  had 
muffled  the  sound  of  Wyndship's  approach  ;  besides,  the 
mirth  of  the  crowd  was  too  noisy,  and  their  attention 
too  much  engrossed  by  the  amusing  tableaux  tkat  was 
being  rehearsed  for  their  entertainment,  for  their  atten- 
tion to  be  easily  distracted ;  consequently,  he  was  al- 
most in  their  midst,  before  they  noticed  his  approach. 
At  first  sight,  he  had  di*awn  and  levelled  his  revolver  at 


% 


BELLEVIEW.  265 

Elma's  assailant,  but  as  he  drew  near  he  changed  his 
intention,  and  raising  it  high  above  his  head,  he  brought 
it  down  on  that  of  the  scoundrel  with  a  force  that  felled 
him  to  the  earth.  The  party,  taken  couipletel}^  by  sur- 
prise, gave  way  before  him  ;  and,  although  they  drew 
their  carbines,  did  not  attempt  to  interpose  in  their 
leader's  behalf. 

Reining  in  his  horse,  and  paying  no  attention  to  the 
others,  Wyndship  sprang  from  his  saddle  and  to  the  side 
of  the  girl. 

"  Oh,  Elma — thank  God,  I  was  in  time." 

A  cry  of  joy  escaped  her  lips  as  she  recognized  her 
rescuer,  and  then,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she 
fainted  away.  Catching  her  as  she  fell,  he  strained  her 
form  closer  to  his  heart  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  and  thank- 
fulness ;  but  soon  recollecting  himself,  when  he  saw  that 
she  had  fainted,  he  dropped  on  his  knees,  and  support- 
ing her  head  on  one  arm,  called  to  the  nearest  soldier : 

"  Bring  me  some  water  —  bring  me  that  canteen 
quick ;"  pointing  to  the  one  tied  to  the  fellow's  saddle. 

The  squad,  partly  from  curiosity,  and  partly  from 
other  motives,  had  ranged  themselves  around  the  two, 
and  were  again  becoming  interested  spectators  of  the 
scene,  although  their  looks  did  not  now  indicate  near  so 
much  amusement  as  before.  They  recognized  him  as  the 
officer  whose  interference  had  prevented  their  intended 
robbery  at  Belleview  ;  and  consequently,  a  part  of  them 
at  least,  regarded  him  with  no  friendlV  eyes  ;  still  they 
hesitated  to  attack  him,  or  to  interfere  'in  behalf  of  their 
leader,  who  still  lay  unconscious  where  he  had  fallen. 
Even  their  corrupt  and  hardened  instincts  told  them 
that  his  punishment  was  not  undesei-^^ed.  Besides,  like 
brutes  who  are  slow  to  attack  a  man  who  shows  no  fear, 
Wyndship's  utter  indifference  to  their  likes,  or  dislikes 
m  the  matter,  had  a  tendency  to  cow  them  into  neutral- 
ity.      _  ^ 

"  Brmg  me  that  canteen,  I  tell  you,"  repeated  Wynd- 
ship,  m  a  tone  that  overcame  the  'hesitation  the  soldier 
was  showino-. 

Hastily  forcing  out  the  stopper,  our  hero  commenced 
sprinklinor  its  contents  over  Elma  fnce,  when  he  discov- 
«i'ed  that  it  was  whiskey,  and  not  water.  With  an  im- 
pi'ecation  against  the  'stuff,  and  all  that  drank  it,  he 
iiurled  the  canteen  to  one  side,  and  thundered  at  the  fel- 


266  JOHNNIE  hall's  present  of  service. 

low  to  get  him  some  water,  and  to  "be  quick."  Pos- 
sibly the  offending  liquor  proved  as  efficacious  as  the 
more  innocent  fluid  would  have  done,  for  before  his  last 
order  was  obeyed,  Elma  opened  her  eyes.  When  she 
again  recognized  the  face  bending  over  her's,  and 
became  conscious  of  what  had  transpired,  a  soft, 
happy  blush  spread  over  her  face.  During  that 
short  moment  each  one  might  have  discovered 
a  truth  in  the  eyes  of  the  other ;  that  the  love  of  the 
past  with  each  had  endured  through  the  years  of 
separation  ;  that  it  had  survived  absence  and  misunder- 
standings ;  that  no  apology,  pardon,  or  explanation 
would  be  needed  on  either  side.  But  another  expression 
came  over  her  face  as  she  remembered,  more  fully,  all 
that  had  just  happened,  and  hastily  freeing  herself  from 
his  arms,  she  cried  : 

"  Oh  !  beware — defend  yourself — they  will  kill  you  !  " 

"Don't  be  alarmed — no  danger  of  that,"  he  an- 
swered, not  even  looking  around.  "  They  attack  old 
men  and  unprotected  women  ;  not  armed  men  like  my- 
self." The  last  words  were  uttered  with  a  scornful  em- 
phasis for  the  benefit  of  the  soldier  who  had  approached 
again,  this  time  with  water.  "  But  you  have  not  re- 
covered entirely — you  have  suffered  some  injuiy,  I  fear? 
Had  you  not  better  lean  on  my  arm  for  support  ?"  And 
not  until  she  declared  herself  fully  restored  and  un- 
harmed did  he  turn  his  attention  to  the  lowering  faces 
around  him. 

"  I  wish  to  explain.  Major,"  said  the  one  who  had 
brought  the  water,  and  who  appeared  to  be  the  soberest 
and  most  respectable  looking  one  in  the  party,  "  that  I 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  assault  on  the  j^oung  lady,  or 
on  the  old  mam." 

"You  were  present  here,  at  least.  Why  didn't  you 
interfere  to  protect  her?" 

"Lieutenant  Blufkins  there  is  my  superior  officer," 
pointing  to  the  one  Wyndship  had  knocked  down,  and 
who  was  now  making  some  feeble  efforts  towards  sit- 
ting up. 

"What?  That  scoundrel  a  commissioned  officer  in 
the  Union  army?" 

"  Yes,  sir.     And — and  I  had  no  power  to  stop  him." 

"  No  power  !  Where  is  your  right  arm?  You  had  its 
power  j  and  the  right  of  a  freeman  to  raise  it  against 


BELLEVIEW.  267 

any  one,  no  matter  what  is  his  rank,  in  the  protection  of 
an  American  lady.  What  did  you  say  that  fellow's 
name  was?" 

"  Lieutenant  Blufkins." 

"What  regiment?" 

"  The  — th  regiment,  Kilpatrick's  command." 

"And  tliis  is  the  way  you  fight  your  country's  battles, 
eh  ?  This  is  the  kind  of  service  you  are  rendering  your 
cause  ?  Drag  j'our  precious  Lieutenant  away  before  I 
am  tempted  to  kill  him  !  Tie  him  on  his  horse,  and  re- 
join your  command  at  once.  If  he  is  not  able  to  travel, 
leave  him  ;  the  quicker  he  falls  into  the  Eebels'  hands 
the  better  it  will  be  for  the  Union  cause.  And  remem- 
ber, all  of  3'OU,  that  I  will  see  to  it  that  your  com- 
mander knows  all  about  these  outrages." 

The  soldier  turned  to  obey,  and  then  stopped. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  demanded  Wyndship,  impatiently. 
He  longed  to  get  them  out  of  Elma's  sight,  and  to  be 
with  her  alone. 

"  There  was  a  man  accompanying  the  young  lady,  and 
who  we  are  holding  yonder  as  a  prisoner,  and  who  we 
suspect  to  be  a  Rebel  officer. " 

AVyndship  glanced  in  the  direction  the  man  pointed, 
and  started  violently  as  he  recognized  the  countenance 
of  Arthur  Slaton,  being  contorted,  now  that  he  was  look- 
ing at  him,  into  the  sickly  smile  he  so  well  remembered. 

"  Bring  him  here  !  "  he  said,  filled  with  exultation,  as 
he  thought  how  completely  he  had  the  scoundrel  in  his 
power. 

Although  pale  and  trembling  with  fear,  Slaton  clung 
heroically  to  the  old  deceitful  smile.  Holding  out  his 
hand,  and  throwing  as  much  cordiality  and  conciliation 
into  his  manner  as  fright  would  allow  him  to  assume,  he 
exclaimed : 

"  My  dear  Mr. — Colonel  Wyndship — what  a  pleasure 
— how  rejoiced  I  am  to  meet  you  again  !  I — I — noth- 
ing could  give  me  greater  happiness !"  But  the  latter 
did  not  notice  the  hand,  or  reply  to  the  greeting. 

"What  did  you  intend  doing  with — with  your  pris- 
oner?" 

"  We  were  going  to  take  him  to  headquarters." 

"Oh,  but  I  am  a  non-combatant!"  cried  Slaton. 
' '  You  will  not — surely  you  will  not  make  a  prisoner  of  a 


268  JOHNNIE  hall's  present  of  service. 

— of  a  peaceful  mun  like  mj^self  ?     Colonel  Wynclship,  in 
the  name  of  our  old  friendship,  I  appeal  to  you !  " 

But  the  latter — the  dear  old  friend — had  turned  a 
shoulder  and  a  very  deaf  ear  to  his  appeal,  although  he 
did  not  turn  far  enough  to  hide  the  contempt  and  loath- 
ing in  his  face ! 

Now  thorouglily  frightened,   as  he  thought  of   Fort 
Delaware  and  Rock  Island,  Slaton  turned  elsewhere  for 
aid.     "Oh!  Miss  Elma,"    he  cried,    beseechingly,  "I. 
know  you'll  intercede  for  me  with  our  brave  rescuer  !   He  -; 
cannot  deny  you — " 

But  the  "  brave  rescuer  "  here  cut  short  his  appeal. 
He  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  Elma  interceding  for  this 
man,  so  he  did  not  give  her  the  chance.  TurniE^" 
quickly  to  the  soldier,  he  said,  contemptuously : 

"  Turn  him  loose.  What  do  you  want  to  make  him  a 
prisoner  for  ?  If  all  the  Southerners  were  like  him  this 
war  would  have  been  over  long  ago.  Besides,  you  Avili 
be  in  luck  to  get  3^ourselves  safely  to  headquarters,  with- 
out being  burdened  by  him.  Wheeler's  cavalry  will 
make  you  all  prisoners,  without  an  accident." 

This  last  sentence  had  a  perceptible  effect  on  those  of 
the  marauders  who  were  sober  enough  to  appreciate  its 
meaning — Wheeler  and  his  cavalry  having  established  a 
bad  reputation  with  their  kind. 

"  They  are  taking  my  horse.  Colonel — they  are  taking 
my  horse  !  AYon't  you  make — be  kind  enough,  to  make 
them  leave  me  my  horse  ?" 

"Leave  Mr.  Slaton  his  horse,"  ordered  Wyndship ; 
and  then,  turning  his  back  to  the  crowd,  he  gave  all  his 
attention  to  IClma.  Ascertaining  that  she  felt  able  to 
ride  he  proceeded  to  assist  her  to  mount,  w^atching 
anxiously  all  the  while  for  any  signs  of  weakness  or  ex- 
haustion, although  she  insisted  that  she  had  fully  recov- 
ered. He  was  turning  to  his  own  horse,  when  she  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Oh !  I  have  lost  something ;  I  have  dropped  my 
— my  pistol." 

Going  back,  he  found  the  weapon  partly  hidden 
among  the  dead  leaves  that  had  drifted  into  the  corner 
of  the  fence.  As  he  picked  it  up  something  about  the 
make  and  finish  looked  familiar,  and  he  turned  it  over 
iu  his  hand  for  a  closer  inspection.     She  saw  the  action, 


BELLEVIEW.  269 

and  a  blush  overspread  her  face.     Holding  out  her  hand, 
she  said,  quickly,  if  not  impatiently  : 

"  It  is  mine — give  it  to  me,  please." 

He  glanced  up,  and  the  blush  quickened  his  memory, 
carrying  it  back  to  the  Christmas  party  at  Mr.  Martin's. 

"Excuse  my  curiosity,"  he  softly  apologized,  step- 
ping close  to  her  horse's  side,  and,  as  he  gave  up  the 
pistol,  he  managed  to  gently  press  the  hand  that  re- 
ceived it. 

"I  prize  it  very  highly,"  she  answered,  with  a 
woman's  natural  perverseness,  "  because  it  is  a  present 
from  one  I  esteem  very  highly — Johnnie  Hall." 

Wyndship  was  too  happy  just  then,  however,  to  be 
troubled  by  any  jealousy  towards  his  old  pupU.  Hastily 
mounting  his  horse,  he  anticipated  Slaton,  and  placed 
himself  by  her  side.  "  YVe  will  soon  be  alone  together," 
he  thought,  "  for  after  all  that  has  transpired  Slaton  will, 
assuredly,  have  the  grace  to  take  himself  oft  somewhere 
and  not  intrude  his  presence  during  the  ride  home."  He 
had  so  much  to  say— his  heart  was  full  with  love  and  de- 
votion that  he  longed  to  express  in  words— and  every 
moment  now  was  precious.  With  his  present  intentions 
It  was  necessary  for  him  to  hurry  back  to  his  command, 
and  his  time  and  opportunities  would  be  far  too  short 
for  half  he  wanted  to  say ;  therefore  he  enviously  be- 
grudged every  moment  that  was  passed  in  the  presence 
of  others.  In  expecting  to  get  rid  of  Slaton,  however, 
he  "  reckoned  without  his  host,"  for  the  latter  kept  them 
close  company  all  the  way  back  to  Belleview ;  and,  dis- 
mounting at  the  gate,  entered  the  house  as  they  did.  In 
fact,  it  looked  as  if  he  was  clinging  to  Wyndship  for  pro- 
tection, and  dared  not  get  an  arm's-length  away.  The 
latter  found  some  consolation,  however,  by  decidino-  on 
a  revenge  that,  he  thought,  would  partly  repay  for  the 
hateful  intrusion.  Face  to  face  with  Elma,  his  rascality 
should  be  revealed,  and  our  hero  imagined  that  her 
withering  scorn  would  surely  penetrate  through  the 
armor  of  assurance  that  shielded  his  craven  spirit  At 
the  door,  Wyndship  and  Elma  passed  into  the  hall 
together,  while  Arthur  was  detained  a  moment  by 
Colonel  Gatchet's  inquiries  as  to  what  had  occurred. 
Seizing  his  opportunity,  the  former  said  : 

"Miss  Elma,  I  have  come  to  Belleview  expressly  to 
see  you  on  a  matter  of  very  great  importance  to  myself, 


270  JOHNNIE    hall's    PRESENT    OF    SERVICE. 

and  possibly  of  some  interest  to  you.  Moreover,  it 
is  also  in  compliance  with  a  promise  I  made  to  Leon 
Gachet  when  dying ;  consequently,  I  must  ask  you  to 
grant  me  a  private  interview  before  I  leave.  Knowing 
that  you  must  be  sadly  in  need  of  rest  after  what  5^ou 
have  just  gone  through,  I  will  gladly  await  your  own 
time — until  you  have  fully  recovered." 

Sht  looked  up  quickly,  and  asked  with  some  eager- 
ness :   "  Is  it  a  message  from  Leon?" 

"  Yes — no,  not  a  message  exactly,  but  a  package." 

"  I  will  be  down  to  the  parlor  in  a  few  moments,  Mr. 
Wyndship." 

The  Yankee  Major's  reception  at  Belleview  was  quite 
different  this  time  from  what  it  had  been  a  few  hours  be- 
fore. From  Mollie  he  received  a  smile  of  gratitude  as 
she  accompanied  her  friend  np-stairs ;  Mrs.  Gachet, 
though  still  nervous  and  trembling,  came  out  to  welcome 
and  to  tiiank  him  for  his  gallant  interference  in  their  be- 
half,-while  the  Colonel  himself  was  everything  that  was 
courteous  and  hospitable.  The  animosity  that  had  been 
engendered  by  the  marauders'  attack  had  given  way  to 
a  high  appreciation  of  Wyndship's  conduct ;  a  feeling 
that  became  almost  enthusiasm  when  later,  through 
Mollie  and  his  wife,  he  heard  Lima's  version  of  hca*  res- 
cue. 

In  a  short  while  supper  was  announced,  and  the  inter- 
view with  Elma  was  necessarily  postponed  until  after  it 
was  over.  Slaton  still  remained,  and  stuck  as  close  to 
Wyndship  as  if  there  was  no  safety  except  in  his  imme- 
diate presence.  During  the  meal  the  latter  still  further 
ingratiated  himself  in  the  good  graces  of  his  host  by  an- 
nouncing his  intention  of  resigning  his  commission  in 
the  Union  service.  He  had  come  to  this  determination 
without  waiting  to  know  what  were  Lima's  feelings  on 
the  subject,  or  how  she  would  receive  a  renewal  of  his 
suit,  other  than  he  had  been  able  to  judge  through  love's 
secret  telegraph.  He  was  resolved  that  no  obstruction 
Avhich  he  could  remove  should  come  between  th^^m  ;  be- 
sides, he  felt  assured  that  the  war  was  virtually  over, 
and  that  peace  would  soon  be  established.  Patriotism, 
he  thought,  did  not  require  him  to  sacrifice  his  happiness 
for  a  cause  that  no  longer  needed  his  services.  The 
Colonel  eagerly  jumped  at  this  announcement,  and  of- 
fered him  at  once,  his  house  as  a  home  until  his  rcsigna- 


feELLEVIEW.  271 

tion  could  be  sent  in  by  a  flag  of  truce  ;  stating  that  he 
felt  confident  that  he  had  influence  enough  with  the  Con- 
federate authorities  to  prevent  his  being  molested.  To 
this,  however,  Wyndship  demurred. 

"That  course  would  hardly  look  honorable,  would 
it?"  he  asked.  "People  would  say  that  I  resigned  to 
save  myself  from  prison." 

As  a  man  of  honor  himself,  the  Colonel  could  not 
gainsay  this  view  of  the  case. 

"  Then,"  he  said,  "  while  I  would  be  glad  to  have  3'ou 
with  us  longer,  I  must  advise  you  to  leave  early  in  the 
morning.  Tony  reported  to  me  late  this  afternoon — 
during  3^our  absence  in  rescuing  Elma — that  a  force  of 
Confederate  Cavalry  were  only  a  short  distance  beyond 
Somerville,  and  were  coming  this  way.  The  negroes 
somehow  keep  wonderfully  well  posted,  and  I  regard  his 
information  as  being  worthy  of  attention.  Of  course 
while  you  are  my  guest  I  shall  protect  you  at  any  cost 
to  m3^self ,  and  will  only  be  doing  my  duty  ;  but  if  they 
get  past  you  it  will  make  your  chances  of  regaining  the 
Federal  lines  very  precarious." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  news.  I  intended  spending 
part  of  the  morning,  at  least,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin, and  will  not  feel  right  to  leave  without  seeing 
them." 

A  chorus  of  dissent  arose  from  each  side  — ' '  He 
must  notthinli:  of  running  such  risks,"  etc.  In  fact,  his 
safety  had  become  a  matter  of  paramount  importance  to 
this  Southern  family.  All  this  was  very  pleasant  to 
Wyndship,  but  gall  and  wormwood  to  Slaton,  who  hated 
him  all  the  more,  not  only  on  account  of  the  former's  un- 
concealed contempt,  but  also  for  the  injury  done  him  in 
the  past ;  just  as  every  wrong-doer  hates  his  innocent 
victim.  Moreover,  he  also  feared  him,  as  his  presence 
at  Belleview  was  dangerous  to  the  success  of  his  schemes 
and  reputation.  He  believed  that  Wyndship  was  still 
ignorant  of  the  trick  that  had  been  played  on  him,  but 
a  private  interview  between  the  two  lovers  would  result 
in  an  explanation,  and  this  must  be  prevented  if  pos- 
sible. His  fright,  while  in  the  hands  of  Blufkin's  party, 
had  been  excessive,  seeing  nothing  before  him  but  a 
Northern  prison,  and  possibly  death.  The  recognition 
of  Wyndship  did  not  lessen  this  fear  at  first,  but  the  lat- 
ter's    scornful    generosity    soon    relieved  his  mind,  and 


275  WYNDSHIP    DELIVERS    LEON*S    PACKAGE. 

with  a  returning  sense  of  personal  security  came  also  his 
old  impudence  and  assurance.  His  enemj^'s  indifference 
deceived  liim  as  to  how  much  he  knew  of  the  old  forg^ 
er}^,  and  he  quickly  decided  in  his  mind  thnt  "  the  game 
was  not  yet  lost,"  provided  he  could  prevent  a  private 
interview  between  the  two  lovers.  Consequently,  he  re- 
solved to  remain  at  Belleview  as  long  ns  Wyndship  did, 
which,  thanks  to  his  lucky  star,  could  not  be  long.  As 
he  could  shed  hints,  rebuffs,  and  insults,  like  the  plumage 
of  a  duck  does  the  raiji,  the  canying  out  of  this  resolu- 
tion would  not  be  an  impossible  task. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

WTNDSHIP  DELIVERS  LEON's  PACKAGE. 

After  supper,  Mollie,  like  the  dear  little  soul  that  she 
was,  manoeuvred  to  place  the  two  lovers  in  the  parlor 
alone.  In  this  she  was  successful  with  every  one  but 
Slaton,  who  was  deaf  to  all  hints  and  inuendos,  remain- 
ing valiantly  at  his  post.  By  doing  so  he  was  uncon- 
sciously playing  directl}^  into  Wyndship's  hands.  The 
hour  for  the  rascal's  punishment  had  come,  and  as  soon 
as  the  three  were  alone  our  hero  proceeded  to  administer 
it  unsparingly.  Elma  had  taken  a  seat  on  one  side  of 
the  fire-place,  Slaton  rather  on  the  opposite  side,  while 
he  stood  between  the  two,  but  not  so  as  to  obstruct  their 
view  of  each  other. 

''Miss  Owens,"  he  said,  commencing  in  a  ceremonious 
manner,  which,  however,  did  not  last  long,  "  I  requested 
of  you  a  private  interview,  stating  that  I  had  something 
to  say  which  I  believed  would  be  of  interest  to  us  both. 
'With  your  permission  I  will  avail  myself  of  the  present 
opportunity." 

Elma  flushed  slightl}^  and  glanced  uneasily  at  Slaton, 
who  remained  stolidly  in  his  seat.  Ignoring  the  glance 
and  its  meaning,  and  suppressing  a  smile  of  satisfac- 
tion, the  speaker  continued: 

''  I  have  a  package  which  was  entrusted  in  my  care  to 
deliver  to  you  in  person,  but  before  doing  so,  I  will  re- 
fer to  an  incident  in  our  past  that  will  serve  as  an  ex- 
planation."   He  then,  in  brief  words,  but  in  the  clearest 


feELLEVlEW.  ^7S 

language,  referred  to  what  had  passed  between  them  in 
the  earl 3^  part  of  18G1,  and  to  the  relation  they  held  to 
each  other  at  that  time. 

''  Oh!  Mr.  AVyndship,"  exclaimed  Elma,  springing  to 
her  feet,  a  bright  color  reddening  hoth  face  and  neck  ; 
"  I,  too,  have  an  explanation  to  make,  but  had  we  not 
better  wait — sometime  when  we  are  alone  ?  Surely,  Cap- 
tain Slaton  will  excuse  ns  ?  " 

That  gentleman  was  not  prepared  for  such  heroic  pro- 
ceedings on  Wyndship's  part,'  and  now  arose,  and  with  a 
sickly  smiled  stated  that  as  he  was  in  the  way,  he  would 
retire. 

"Pray  be  seated,  Captain — I  insist  on  it — what  I 
have  to  say  does  not  retider  your  presence  undesirable." 

Slaton  hesitated,  but  a  look  and  gesture  from  Wynd- 
ship  decided  him,  and  he  sank  back  in  his  seat  looking 
anything  but  comfortable.  The  latter,  turning  to  Elma, 
whispered ;  "  Pardon  this  seeming  outrage  on  your  feel- 
ings of  modesty,  but  really  I  have  an  object  in  desiring 
his  presence,  which  I  dare  say  j^ou  will  see  and  approve 
of  before  I  am  through." 

With  a  confidence  born  of  perfect  love,  she  resumed 
her  seat,  and  waited  with  downcast  eyes  for  what  was  i<^ 
come. 

The  speaker  resumed  his  relation,  but  when  he  came 
to  the  return  of  the  flowers  she  again  interrupted  him. 

"  I  never  received  the  flowers,  or — or  your  note.  I 
did  not  write  that — that  one  which  you  received.  I  knew 
nothing  about  it  until  after  you  left." 

By  this  time  Slaton  surmised  what  was  coming,  and 
with  a  confused  explanation  about  some  engagement  he 
had  forgotten,  arose  and  started  for  the  door.  The 
other,  however,  was  watching  him,  and  by  quicker  move- 
ments reached  and  locked  it  before  he  could  carry  his  in- 
tended flight  into  effect. 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  he  cried,  with  a  faint  attempt 
at  bluster. 

"  That  we  cannot  possibly  spare  you  just  yet ;  "  and 
returning  to  the  surprised  Elma,  Wyndship  laid  the  key 
on  the  table  by  her  side. 

"  The  package  I  have  to  deliver  is  about  that  note, 
and  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  prompted  by  the  desire  to 
clear  the  memory  of  one  that  is  dead  from  an  undeserved 
stam  in  your  estimation,  and  to  fix  the  blame  on  the  real 


274  WYNDSHIP    DELIVERS    LEON^S  PACKAGE. 

criminal,  you  will  pardon  my  strange  procedure."  At 
these  words  Elma  uttered  a  smothered  exclamation,  and 
glanced  from  the  speaker  to  Slaton.  All  the  latter's  as- 
surance had  vanished,  and  he  looked  the  very  image  of 
apprehension.  But  Wyndship  gave  neither  time  to 
speak. 

*'  I  was  with  Leon  Gachet  when  he  died,  and  his  last 
moments  were  spent  in  explaining  to  me  the  circum- 
stance that  is  explained  to  you  in  this  package.  There 
was  never  any  love  between  us — he  was  my  enemy  to 
the  last — but  was  an  honorable  foe,  at  least.  He  did 
not  write  that  note,  as  you  thought.  While  intoxicated, 
he  took  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  returning  the 
flowers  in  his  own  name,  and  in  his  own  handwriting 
and  over  his  own  signature  wrote  me  a  message  of  insult 
and  defiance.  Urged  on  by  drink  and  jealousy,  he  took 
a  high-handed  course,  but  intended  nothing  underhand 
or  dishonorable — his  object  being  to  provoke  me  to  a 
duel  with  himself.  While  he  stepped  out  to  secure  a 
messenger,  this — this  person,  who  was  with  him  at  the 
time,  substituted  the  vile  forgery  which  I  received." 

''  That  is  not  true— that  is  a  1—"  But  Slaton  did 
not  finish  the  word.  A  motion  and  a  look  from  Wynd- 
ship choked  it  back  and  changed  his  tone.  "There  is 
some  mistake,"  he  whimpered. 

"  That  person,"  continued  our  hero,  with  his  finger 
pointed  at  his  cringing  victim,  "  wrote  it.  That  person 
imitated  your  handwriting  and  forged  your  name,  and 
during  Leon's  temporary  absence  from  the  room,  of  his 
own  volition,  and  for  his  own  purposes,  betrayed  his 
friend's  confidence  by  slipping  it  into  the  envelope  that 
Leon  thought  contained  his  own  message  of  defiance." 

"  Oh,  there  is  some  mistake — I  swear  to  Heaven — 
there  is  some  mistake  !  " 

"All  this  is  explained  in  this  package,  I  suppose. 
Leon,  it  seems,  from  a  false  sense  of  pride,  and  relying, 
probably,  on  this  fellow's  promise  to  explain  all  to  you, 
allowed  you  to  remain  under  the  false  impression  that  he 
was  the  guilty  one  ;  but  some  time  before  he  received 
his  death  wound  he  wrote  out  a  statement  of  the  truth. 
This  he  had  about  his  person  when  I  found  him,  mor- 
tally wounded,  on  the  battlefield  of  Gettysburg;  and 
now,  in  compliance  with  my  promise  to  him — his  last  ex- 


'■  BELLEVIEW.  '2i^ 

pressed  wish  on  earth — I  deliver  it  to  you,"  laying  the 
well-worn  envelope  in  her  hands. 

"Oh!  I  am  so  glad,"  she  whispered;  "so  glad  for 
Mollies,  and  his  father's  sake." 

"  I  beg  you — I  implore  you.  Miss  Elma,"  pleaded 
Slaton,  in  a  faltering  voice,  approaching  nearer,  "  not 
to  condemn  me  without  a  hearing.  There  is  some  mis- 
tate — some  plot  to — "  again  a  look  from  "Wyndship 
changed  his  words.  "  Leon  was  crazy — :he  was  not  in 
his  right  mind  when  he  wrote  that — when  he  told  that 
tale !  " 

Slowly,  as  if  against  her  inclinations,  Elma  looked  up 
from  the  envelope  in  her  hands  to  the  wretch  before  her. 
Her  bosom  heaved  and  her  lips  opened,  but  indignation 
and  contempt  were  evidently  too  great  for  words.  For 
a  moment  her  eyes  blazed  forth  hot  flames  of  scorn  and 
loathing,  which  seemed  to  scorch  and  wither  the  wretch 
upon  whom  they  rested,  and  then — she  turned  her  back. 

Taking  up  the  key,  "Wyndship  unlocked  and  opened 
the  door.  "  Captain  Slaton,"  he  said,  with  a  low  bow, 
and  with  a  mocking  smile  on  his  face,  "  we  can  now  dis- 
pense with  3'our  presence — with  the  pleasure  of  your 
company — and  will  permit  you  to  retire,  I  think  now 
that  we  are  about  even — you  have  given  me  years  of 
misery  ;  but  my  revenge  is  complete.  I  would  not  re- 
ceive such  a  look  as  that  from  Elma  Owens'  eyes  for  a 
thousand  worlds."  ^Vith  a  cry  of  rage,  the  baffled  and 
humiliated  rascal  fled  from  the  room. 

Left  to  themselves,  it  did  not  take  the  lovers  long  to 
clear  up  the  past ;  in  fact,  that  had  already  been  done, 
and  no  further  explanation  was  necessary.  Elma  made 
no  attempt  to  hide  her  feelings,  but  bravely  confessed 
that  she  had  continued  to  love  him  throughout  the  separ- 
ation ;  but  plead  as  he  ma}^,  he  could  not  induce  her  to 
renew  the  promise  to  become  his  wife.  Here  she  was 
obdurate,  clinging  to  the  idea  that  patriotism  and  duty 
must  come  first,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  happiness.  She 
told  him  that  all  her  prejudices  and  sympathies — all  her 
affections,  outside  of  her  love  for  him,  were  enlisted  in 
the  Southern  cause.  That,  never  expecting  to  meet  him 
again,  she  had  enthroned  her  countr}^  as  her  idol ;  and 
how  could  she  forsake  it  now,  in  its  darkest  hour  of 
trial? 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to  forsake  j^our  country,  nor  your 


276  WYNDSHIP    DELIVERS   LEON  S  PACKAGE. 

cause,"  he  pleaded.  "  I  will  be  couteut  for  you  to  re- 
main the  strongest  little  rebel  in  the  South.  This  ques- 
tion must  not  come  between  us." 

"  But  it  has  already  come  between  us,  and  cannot  be 
helped.  It  will  always  be  between  us,  for  I  cannot  ask 
you  to  forsake  your  principles,  neither  can  1  give  up 
mine." 

"  Cannot  we  agree  to  disagree — to  suppress — to 
banish  this  question,  as  far  as  ourselves  are  concerned? 
Why  should  we  bother  about  it  ?  " 

''Oh!  you  do  not  know  how  we,  the  people  of  the 
South,  feel — how  dear  to  us  this  cause  has  become  !  Our 
hearts,  our  hopes  of  happiness,  our  existence  itself,  is 
linked  with  its  fate  ;  and  how  can  I  marry  one  who  has 
been  fighting  against — who,  I  know,  has  been  one  of  its 
bravest  enemies  ?  " 

"  But  I  will  fight  against  it  no  longer — I  am  going  to 
return  to  the  army,  only  to  resign.  Besides,  the  war 
is  almost  over.  All  the  bravery  of  j^our  troops,  all  the 
skill  of  your  generals — and  I  am  willing  to  admit  that 
neither  can  be  excelled — can  not  save  the  South  from 
ultimately  returning  to  the  Union." 

' '  Do  you  believe  that — that  the  South  will  be  con- 
quered ? " 

"  Yes;  she  is  overpowered,  and,  I  believe,  about  ex- 
hausted. One  more  campaign  will  certainly  decide  the 
issue,  and — against  you." 

"  If  that  be  true,  ifr  makes  our  union  all  the  more  im- 
possible." 

"  Why?"  he  cried,  impatiently. 

''Because  we  are  in  a  great  measure  ruined  now,  and 
if  we  fail  in  establishing  our  independence  the  wreck 
will  be  complete.  Nothing  will  be  left  us — possibly  not 
even  the  homes  we  hold  so  dear.  How^  could  I  let  you 
blight  your  brilliant  prospects  by  marrying  me — one  of 
her  poverty-stricken  daughters  ?" 

"  I  do  not  waut  to  marry  you  for  your  property  !  I 
thought  you  understood  that ;  it  is  yourself  that  I  want. 
If  you  hadn't  a  dollar  in  the  world  I  would  be  all  the 
better  pleased." 

"  I  believe  that,"  she  said,  softly,  as  if  afraid  to  trust 
ker  voice.  She  no  longer  dared  to  lift  her  eyes  for  fear 
he  would  see  the  tears,  or  they  would  betray  the  pain 
she  was  suffering.     "  I  believe  that,  but  as  a  brave  oflS- 


BELLEVIEW.  277 

cer  who  has  triumphed  over  his  enemies  3-011  will  return 
to  your  home  at  the  North,  and  a  grateful  people  will 
gladly  reward  your  services.  Your  talents,  aided  by  a 
brilliant  war  record,  Avill  soon  lift  you  into  places  of 
prominence  and  honor.  You  must  not  resign  !  I  can- 
not let  you  sacrifice  all  this  for  me." 

"But  I  have  no  prospects — I  have  no  ambition  that  is 
not  connected  with  you.  Without  you  the  future  is  a 
blank — is  worse  than  a  blank,  for  the  very  thought  is 
un  supportable." 

"  You  will  get  over  this."  Her  voice  sank  still  lower, 
also  her  head,  for  the  tears  were  creeping  out  from  their 
prison. 

"  Never  !  Have  I  not  tried?  After  nearly  four  long 
years  of  separation,  the  greater  part  of  which  was  spent 
in  tr3'ing  to  banish  all  thoughts  of  you  from  my  heart, 
my  love  is  only  stronger,  deeper,  more  absorbing  than 
ever.  To  forget  ^-ou,  to  cease  to  love  you,  is  unpossi- 
ble,  and  you  have  no  right  to  ask  it  of  me." 

"  I  cannot  ruin  3-our  life,"  she  cried  despairingly,  and 
then  broke  down  completely.  The  sight  of  her  tears 
was  too  much.  Clasping  her  in  his  arms,  he  exclaimed 
impetuously : 

"  I  will  not  take  '  No'  for  an  answer.  You  shall  not 
ruin  mj'  life  and  yours  with  such  false  notions  of  duty 
— nothing  on  earth  shall  ever  separate  us  again." 

Was  success  at  last  about  to  reward  his  persistence  ? 
Had  she  given  up,  seeing  that  she  made  no  immediate 
efforts  to  release  herself  from  his  arms?  If  so,  fate, 
for  the  present,  denied  him  the  satisfaction  that  knowl- 
edge would  have  brought,  for  just  then  the  sound  of 
footsteps  in  the  hall  warned  them  that  some  one  was  en- 
tering. 

Quickly  disengaging  herself  from  his  clasp,  Elma 
sprang  to  her  feet.  Turning  deathly  pale,  and  trembling 
in  every  limb,  she  cried  : 

"Oh!  3'ou  are  in  danger.  The3^  will  capture  3^ou — 
will  kill  3^ou,  maybe.  Oh !  what  must  3'ou  do — where 
can  3"ou  go  ?  "  She  looked  around  for  some  avenue  b3'' 
which  he  could  escape,  and  then  rushing  to  one  of  the 
windows,  with  desperate  eagerness  tried  to  undo  the 
fastenings. 

Wyndship  laughed  joyfully  to  himself,  and  catching 
her  hands  in  his,  stopped  her  efforts. 


278  WYNDSHIP    DELIVERS    LEOX's  TACKAGE. 

''  Don't  be  frightened — I'm  in  no  danger.  I  have 
known  but  one  fear  lately,"  he  added,  "  and  that  was, 
that  you  had  ceased  to  love  me.  That  fear  is  gone,  and 
I  am  confident  that  the  Providence  who  has  been  so  kind 
will  shield  me  from  all  dangers  now.  That  is  no  enemy 
that  we  need  to  fear."  He  looked  as  if  he  did  indeed 
believe  himself  to  be  surrounded  by  an  invulnerable 
shield.  This  time  h's  faith  was  not  misplaced,  as  the 
door  opened  to  admit  Doctor  Hurst. 

"Mr.  Wyndship,"  he  said,  in  his  friendly,  straight- 
forward way,  "I  am  truly  glad  to  see  you  ;  "  verifying 
his  words  by  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand.  He  took  a 
seat,  and  a  few  minutes,  friendl}^  talk,  in  which  there 
was  no  allusion  to  the  war,  passed  between  them. 
Then  the  Colonel  came  in,  and  much  to  Wyndship's  dis- 
comfort, the  events  of  the  afternoon  had  to  be  retold 
for  tlie  Doctor's  edification  ;  and  if  the  latter's  enco- 
miums were  few  in  words,  still  the  young  man  understood 
and  appreciated  the  warm  approval  in  his  eyes.  But,  as 
.usual,  the  Doctor  was  in  a  hm-ry.  Some  soldier's  sick 
family  claimed  his  attention,  and  friendship,  and  per- 
sonal comfort  must  give  way  to  what  he  considered  his 
duty  to  them.     Rising  to  leave,  he  said : 

"  I  heard  a  few  moments  ago  that  3'ou  were  here,  and 
called  by  to  see  you,  and  also  to  tell  you  that  some  of 
Wheeler's  Cavalry  were  in  the  neighborhood.  Harris's 
regiment  is  camped  for  the  night  at  the  old  camp-ground, 
four  miles  west  of  Somerville.  I  did  not  know  how  you 
were  fixed  as  regarded  papers,  and  thought  it  would  be 
best  to  tell  you." 

Wyndship's  thanks  were  interrupted  by  his  host,  who 
said : 

"We  must  get  Major  Wyndship  off  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  is  very  important  that  he  escape  capture."  He 
then  added,  in  reply  to  the  interrogation  point  in  his 
neighbor's  eye  :  "  He  returns  to  the  Federal  army  only 
that  he  may  resign  his  commission  and  receive  an  hon- 
orable discharge."  The  Colonel  was  very  much  inter- 
ested in  this  matter.  For  the  young  man  himself,  he 
had  felt  a  kindly  feeling  in  the  past,  to  which  was  now 
added  a  keen  sentiment  of  gratitude.  But  this  was  not 
all ;  the  enemy  was  about  to  lose  a  brave  soldier,  and, 
the  South  have  one  less  to  combat ;  consequently,  as 
rabid  a  rebel  as  he  was,  he  would  have  risked  his  own 


feELLEVTEW.  279 

life  and  reputation  rather  than  have  the  young  Yankee 
molested.  Tiie  Doctor  also  looked  pleased,  and  possibly 
threw  a  little  extra  fervor  into  the  hand-clasp  as  he  bade 
him  good-bye. 

No  opportunity  was  given  Wyndship  during  the  eve- 
ning to  renew  his  pleadings  with  Elma.  The  family  re- 
turned to  the  parlor,  and  did  not  leave  it  until  bed-time. 
That  charge  at  Gettysburg  must  be  described,  and  the 
incidents  of  Leon's  death — a  theme  of  which  his  host 
could  never  tire — must  be  retold.  This  consumed  the 
remainder  of  the  evening,  but  just  before  they  broke  up 
he  opened  the  piano,  and  requested  Elma  to  sing. 

*'l   have  quit  singing  anything  but  rebel  war-songs," . 
she  answered,  "  and  j^ou  would  not  like  to   hear  them." 

"You  are  mistaken — I  would  like  ever  so  much  to 
hear  you  sing  one." 

Did  she  feel  that  she  had  been  too  easily  overcome  by 
love — had  come  too  near  a  surrender  of  the  principles 
wliich  she  had  decided  must  prevent  her  from  becoming 
his  wife,  and  now  wished  to  recover  some  of  the  lost 
ground — to  apprise  him  that  her  decision  was  irrevo- 
cable? After  a  little  hesitation,  and  without  another 
word,  she  took  her  seat  at  the  instrument,  and  soon  the 
whole  room  was  ringing  with  those  inspiring  words  : 

♦*  You  have  the  sword  of  the  Lion's  Whelp, 
The  God  of  the  Maccabees." 

There  was  no  affectation  or  pretense  of  feeling  either  in 
manner  or  voice  ;  but  she  threw  her  whole  passionate 
soul  into  that  greatest  of  all  war- songs.  It's  heroic 
sentiments  had  been  hers  entirely  for  the  time,  and  she 
s-aig  it  as  if  she  had  been  transformed  into  the  special 
Goddess  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and  was  calling 
on  its  people  to  make  one  grand,  supreme  effort  in  the 
cause  of  freedom.  The  influence  of  her  inspiration  was 
all  pervading,  and  tliere  was  not  one  among  the  few 
listeners  whose  heart  did  not  throb  with  the  same  tu- 
multuous fire  that  was  thrilling  hers.  When  she  fin- 
ished, a  moment's  perfect  silence  followed,  as  the  echo- 
ing refrain  died  awny.  Slowly  she  turned  towards  her 
lover,  her  face  deathly  pnle,  biit  with  eyes  glowing  with 
the  spirit  of  high  resolve  and  self-immolation. 

"  That  is  the  battle-cry  of  the  South,"  she  said.  "  We 
are  not  con  :|uered  yet.     Good-night." 


S80  WYNDSHIP 

As  the  influence  died  away,  the  remembrance  of  that 
pale,  resohite  face,  and  speaking  eyes,  remaiiK^d  to  tor- 
ment him  thronghout  the  night.  Was  he  destined  to 
lose  his  happiness  after  all?  Would  she  sacrifice  her 
heart  as  well  as  his  on  the  altar  of  her  patriotism  and 
supposed  duty  ?  Would  love  of  country,  devotion  to  a 
hopeless  cause,  be  stronger  than  her  love  for  him?  Ah  ! 
his  late  boast,  that  now  he  had  no  fear,  was  being 
quickly  refuted. 


After  a  night,  of  which  only  a  small  portion  was  spent 
in  sleep,  Wyndship  was  summoned  by  Tony  at  early 
dawn.  Coming  down  to  the  breakfast-room,  he  found 
Elma  the  only  member  of  the  family  in  waiting.  It  was 
very  evident  from  her  pale  cheeks  and  hollow  eyes,  that 
she,  too,  had  spent  a  wakeful  night,  learning  by  experi- 
ence that  patriotism  will  not  supply  tlie  place  of  love, 
and  that  the  approving  whispers  of  conscience  for  prin- 
ciples maintained  and  duty  performed  will  not  always 
recompense  the  human  heart  for  the  loss  of  happiness — 
will  not  always  cure  the  sting  of  misery. 

''  Colonel  Gachet  is  not  well  this  morning,"  she  said, 
"  and  Mollie  requested  me  to  make  his  excuses.  He  re- 
ceived a  hurt  yesterday,  while  struggling  with  the  sol- 
diers. He  did  not  notice  it  last  evening — because  of 
the  excitement,  I  suppose — but  does  not  feel  able  to  rise 
this  morning.  Mrs.  Gachet  is  also  feeling  unwell,  and 
Mollie  is  with  them.  All  three  asked  me  to  give  you 
their  adieus,  and  wishes  for  a  safe  trip  and — and  a 
speedy  return." 

They  took  seats  at  the  table,  and  Elma  poured  out  his 
coffee.  Notwithstanding  the  want  of  an  appetite,  it  was 
a  very  enjoyable  meal  to  Wyndship,  and  he  wondered  if 
it  would  ever  be  his  good  fortune  to  have  this  beautiful 
and  lovable  woman  pouring  out  his  coffee  while  they  sat 
in  peace  and  happiness  around  their  own  board.  He 
was  resolved  that  if  this  should  never  be,  the  fault  should 
not  be  his.  All  of  his  energies  and  efforts  should  be 
devoted  to  the  accomplishment  of  this  end,  regardless  of 
every  other  consideration.  But  Elma  evidently  did  not 
find  it  so  pleasant.  She  looked  anxious  and  uneasy, 
with  her  attention  partly  distracted,   as  if  listening  to 


BELLE  VIEW.  281 

every  sound  that  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  early  morn- 
ing. 

"  I  am  getting  such  an  early  start,"  he  said,  "  that  I 
will  venture  into  Somerville  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin.    There  will  not  be  much  danger." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  cried  in  alarm,  "  you  must  not  think 
of  such  a  thing.  I  will  explain  it  to  them,  and  will  de- 
liver any  messages  you  will  entrust  to  me  ;  but  you  must 
take  the  direct  and  safest  route  back  to  your  command." 

"  Why,  Colonel  Harris  and  his  regiment  are  good  four 
miles  away,  and  will  not  be  likely  to  move  before  sun- 
rise.    That  will  give  me  a  good  hour  or  more  the  start." 

''  Yes,  but  Tony  says  there  is  another  command  of 
Confederate  soldiers  in  the  neighborhood,  who  were  only 
a  mile  below  Somerville  yesterday  afternoon.  You 
must  take  the  eastern  road  and  start  at  once." 

"  How  does  Tony  learn  so  much?" 

"I  don't  know;  still,  much  of  the  news  we  get 
through  the  negroes  proves  to  be  accurate,  and  as  there 
is  nothing  improbable  in  this,  it  would  be  foolish  not  to 
regard  it." 

"  I  wanted,  so  much,  to  see  them." 

"Yes;  but  you  had  better  wait  until  you — until  you 
can  do  so  safely.  I  will  tell  them  how  it  is."  She 
flushed  slightly  under  his  gaze  as  she  said  this,  and  her 
lips  parted  as  if  to  add  something  more.  She  had  made 
up  her  mind  during  the  night  to  tell  him  before  he  left 
not  to  return  until  after  the  Avar  was  over ;  not  to  re- 
sign, and  to  give  up  his  wild  resolution  of  settling  in 
Georgia,  as  they  could  never  be  married,  and  his  pres- 
ence there  would  only  add  to  their  pain  and  unhappi- 
ness ;  but  somehow,  the  words  stuck  in  her  throat. 

He  did  not  push  the  argument  further.  If  going  into 
Somerville  that  morning  would  cause  her  any  uneasiness, 
of  course  he  must  abandon  the  idea,  as  her  peace  of 
mind  was  his  first  consideration. 

A  slight  noise  in  front  of  the  house  caused  her  to  rise 
hurriedly  and  pass  out  into  the  hall.  She  returned 
quickly,  however,  and  said  : 

"  Your  horse  is  ready,  and — but  I  beg  your  pardon — 
you  have  not  finished  your  breakfast?" 

"  I  believe  you  are  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me,"  he  an- 
swered, lightly,  pushing  back  his  empty  cup. 

"  Let  me  give  you  some  more  coffee,"  she  offered,  not 


282  WYNDSIIIP    DELIVERS    LEON's    PACKAGE. 

replying  to  the  accusation.  Every  minute  her  manner 
was  growing  more  anxious  and  nervous.  He  saw  and 
piticcl  her  apprehension,  and,  declining  the  coffee,  arose 
and  passed  with  her  out  into  the  hall.  It  was  bliss  to 
intoxication  to  see  her  so  engrossed  with  thoughts  and 
fears  of  his  safety,  and  love  and  gratitude  both  urged 
him  not  to  give  her  one  moment  of  needless  alarm.  By 
her  thoughtful  directions,  Tony  had  not  only  saddled  his 
horse,  but  had  also  carried  out  and  secured  his 'few  per- 
sonal effects  to  his  saddle ;  consequently,  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  his  immediate  departure.  They 
passed  out  on  the  front  piazza  together,  he  pulling  the 
hall-door  to  behind  them,  resolved  that  no  one  should 
Avitness  their  farewell.  All  the  old,  bashful  reserve,  the 
old,  doubtful  self-consciousness  that  had  governed  his 
manner  towards  her  in  the  past,  had  vanished.  She 
loved  him,  and  was  anxious  concerning  his  personal 
safety — he  knew  this — knew  that  he  was  master  of  the 
situation,  and  with  every  pulse  throbbing  with  delirious 
joy,  resolved  to  utilize  his  advantage. 

"And  you  are  eager  to  see  me  leave — to  get  rid  of 
me?"  he  repeated,  in  a  low  voice,  tense  with  love  and 
happiness. 

"It  is  dangerous  to  remain — we — you — they  might 
come  at  any  moment." 

"And  what  if  they  did?"  He  had  taken  the  clasped 
hands  in  his  own,  and  was  gazing  into  the  frightened 
face,  feasting  on  the  nectar  furnished  by  the  humid  eyes 
and  quivering  lips.      "  They  would  not  kill  me  ?  " 

"But  you — they  might  send  you  to  Andersonville. 
That — I — I  could  not  bear  that." 

One  of  his  hands  released  hers  that  the  arm  might 
pass  around  her  waist. 

"  Oh,  please  go,"  she  pleaded. 

The  arm  tightened  in  reply.  "  Elma,"  he  said, 
slowly,  emphasizing  each  word.  "Elma,  listen:  I  am 
going,  but  I  am  coming  back — coming  back  to  claim 
you ;  do  you  hear  ?  And  remember,  there  must  be  no 
more  such  objections,  and  such  argun;«;its,  as  you  used 
last  night.  I  am  coming  back  to  make  you  my  wife  in 
spite  of  this  war,  and  in  spite  of  your  Southern  preju- 
dices. I  am  coming  back  to  become  a  citizen  of 
Georgia  when  she  returns  to  the  Union — as  true  and  de- 
voted  to  her  interests  as  any  within  her  borders ;   and 


feftiJ.KviEw.  28S 

One,  I  hope,  that  you  will  not  be  ashamed  to  call  your 
husbaud.  I  know  you  love  me — you  cannot  deny  it — 
you  dare  not  raise  your  head,  because  your  face,  your 
eyes,  your  lips,  all  say  that  you  do.  Do  you  hear  me? 
I  am  coming  back,  and  I  will  not  take  no  for  an 
answer." 

There  was  no  answer.  Gently  he  raised  the  hidden 
face  and  pressed  a  kiss,  first  on  the  forehead,  then  on 
the  cheek,  and  then  a  longer,  more  passionate  one,  on 
the  lips.  "Good-bye,"  he  whispered,  and,  releasing 
her,  went  quickly  down  the  steps  and  out  to  his  horse. 

A  faint  cry,  calling  his  name,  that  he  did  not  hear,  es- 
caped her  lips  as  she  staggered  to  one  of  the  piazza  col- 
umns for  support.  He  was  gone,  and  she  had  not  told 
him  w^hat  she  intended.  He  would  resign  and  come 
back,  sacrificing  his  future  prospects,  expecting  her  to 
become  his  wife.  Oh  !  if  she  could  only  shut  her  eyes 
to  the  barriers  between  them  ;  hush  the  reminders  of 
duty  and  of  patriotism ;  get  rid  of  these  prickings  of 
doubt  and  of  conscience — what  a  world  of  happiness  this 
would  mean.  Beneath  the  overhanging  ivy  she  watched 
his  receding  form  ;  surely  it  could  not  be  remorse  Tor 
what  she  had  left  unsaid  ;  it  could  not  be  grief  at  the 
temporary  separation,  that  caused  such  a  look  of  horror 
in  her  face.  Was  it  a  premonition  of  danger  ahead,  for 
him? 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ARTHUR  RALLIES  AND  REFORMS  HIS  FORCES. 

"When  Georgia  was  arming  her  old  men  and  young 
boys  and  sending  them  against  Sherman,  there  was  one 
of  her  sons,  fairly  within  the  military  age,  whom  she  sig- 
nally failed  to  get  to  the  front.  This  son  was  our 
friend,  Captain  Arthur  Slaton.  A  short  period  of 
active  service  in  Virginia,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
had  satisfied  what  thirst  for  glory  he  possessed,  and 
since  that  time  he  had  managed  to  keep  safely  away 
from  ' '  where  the  bullets  were  whistling."  By  some  means 
— probably  by  a  judicious  use  of  his  oily  tongue  and 
sycophantic  manners — he  had  obtained  the  favor  of  some 


284        ARTHUR   RALLIES    AND    REFORMS    HIS    FORCES. 

official,  who  rewarded  his  bootlicking  with  a  commission 
and  a  "bomb-proof  position"  in  the  commissaiy  de- 
partment. But  his  good  fortune  did  not  stop  here,  for 
lie  soon  got  himself  detailed  for  service  in  this  depart- 
ment at  Macon,  Ga.,  and  from  this  secure  berth  he  could 
not  be  moved  by  either  sense  of  pride,  the  criticisms  of 
others,  or  the  necessities  of  his  cause.  From  there  he 
cautiously  proceeded  to  carry  out  the  scheme  he  had  put 
in  motion,  that  day  in  the  library  at  Belleview.  Leon 
was  about  right  in  his  suspicion  as  to  his  double  object 
— first  to  get  rid  of  Wyudship  ;  and  then,  if  the  decep- 
tion ever  came  to  light,  all  the  circumstances  would  point 
to  the  former  as  the  guilty  party,  and  forever  destroy 
his  chances  with  Elma.  It  was  a  stone  which  might  kill 
two  birds  ;  and  we  have  seen  how  effectually  it  did  the 
work.  He  reasoned  to  himself  that  regard  for  the 
family  would  prevent  Elma  from  accusing  Leon  of  the 
forgery  ;  that  she  would  simply  reject  his  suit  and  sup- 
press her  knowledge  of  the  trick ;  besides,  he  believed 
that  the  latter  was  too  di'unk  to  remember  w^hat  had 
transpired,  with  any  certainty.  True,  he  erred  in  his 
estimate  of  her ;  but  then,  Leon's  unreasonable  pride 
prevented  her  from  learning  the  truth,  and  consequently 
the  result  was  just  what  he  desired,  and  with  both  the 
lovers  out  of  the  way  he  could  step  in  and  capture  the 
prize. 

His  duties  in  Macon  were  more  imaginary  than  real ; 
or  else  he  possessed  the  happy  faculty  of  shirking  their 
performance,  as  he  found  plenty  of  time  to  make  fre- 
quent visits  to  Belleview.  At  first,  he  was  very  cau- 
tious in  his  advances,  for  should  Leon  hear  of  his  atten- 
tions to  Elma  there  was  danger  that  he  might  divulge 
the  truth  through  jealousy  ;  but  after  the  battle  of  Get- 
tysburg, this  fear  was  removed,  and,  throwing  aside 
all  concealment,  he  commenced  his  courtship  in  dead 
earnest.  Here  he  met  with  less  success  than  his  egotism 
had  promised,  and  his  progress  was  exasperatingly  slow. 
She  not  only  kept  his  love-making  suppressed  with  a 
very  damp  towel  of  reserve,  but  also  managed  to  let  him 
know  that  she  did  not  admire  his  kind  of  a  soldier.  Too 
cautious  and  cowardly  to  boldly  break  through  her  bar- 
rier of  coldness,  he  was  still  blessed  with  persistence, 
and  continued  his  attentions,  hoping  that  as  water  by 
continual  dropping  will  wear  the  hardest  stone,  so  by 


BELLEVIEW.  285 

continual  wooing  lie  might  j^et  succeed  in  obtaining  an 
entrance  into  the  citadel  of  her  heart  and  fortune. 


When  Slaton,  covered  with  chagrin  and  choking  with 
rage,  rushed  from  the  parlor  after  his  exposure,  his  de- 
sire was  to  get  away  from  Belle  view  as  soon  as  possible. 
Not  wishing  to  meet  with  any  of  the  family  just  then  he 
undertook  to  find  Tony  and  have  his  horse  saddled  him- 
self. But  the  latter  could  not  be  found,  at  least  by  the 
cursory  search  which  circumstances  permitted  him  to 
make.  The  presence  of  "  de  Yankee  sojers  "  had  a  very 
relaxing  effect  on  plantation  and  household  discipline  ; 
and  where,  before,  the  darkey  had  waited  until  the  mas- 
ter or  overseer  was  safely  in  bed  before  venturing 
abroad  to  swap  news  and  conjectures  with  his  dusky 
brethren  on  neighboring  plantations,  he  now  scarcely 
waited  for  the  friendly  shades  of  night.  Possibly,  Tony 
was  out  manipulating  the  "  grape-vine  telegraph,"  by 
the  means  of  which  he  kept  so  much  better  ported  on  the 
happenings  of  the  day  than  his  master.  At  any  rate, 
after  an  exasperating  and  futile  search,  Arthur  was  com- 
pelled to  hunt  up  his  horse,  bridle,  and  saddle,  in  the 
dark  as  best  he  could,  and  to  perform  the  duties  of  host- 
ler for  himself.  This  task  completed,  he  mounted  and 
rode  away,  leaving  no  adieus  behind. 

Just  as  he  was  passing  through  the  gate  out  into  the 
public  road,  he  was  alarmed  by  the  soft  footfalls  of 
another  horse,  approaching  from  the  direction  of  Somer- 
ville.  The  deep  sand  of  the  highway,  even  when  wet, 
was  such  a  perfect  suppressor  of  sound  that  he  did  not 
hear  the  noise  of  the  other's  approach  until  only  a  lew 
yards  separated  their  horses'  heads,  and  it  was  too  late 
to  follow  his  first  inclination,  which  was  to  hide  himself 
from  sight.  In  those  times  persons  did  not  pass  each 
other  on  the  public  highway  at  night  without  a  challenge, 
and  "Hello!  who  is  that?"  came  promptly  from  the 
strange  rider. 

^^  Slaton  recognized  the  voice,  and  his  fear  subsided. 
-It  IS  I,  Doctor — Arthur  Slaton,"  he  answered,  trying 
^ard  to  speak  in  a  natural  manner.  "  Isn't  it  rather 
squally  times  to  be  making  professional  visits  after 
dark?  "  he  added,  after  a  short  pause,  with  a  little  better 
success. 


286        ARTHUR   RALLIES    AND  REFORMS    HIS    FORCES. 

"  I  have  a  call  that  I  must  make  to-night — to  see  a 
soldier's  sick  family.  You  know  Ave  mustn't  let  con- 
siderations for  our  personal  safet}^  or  comfort  interfere 
with  our  duty  to  them,  or  to  our  country." 

"Certainly,"  responded  the  other,  faintly,  perfectly 
conscious  that  this  last  sentence  contained  a  "  fling  "  at 
himself — something  that  he  was  getting  accustomed  to  ; 
but  that  fact  did  not  make  it  any  the  more  pleasant. 
"Are  there  any  of  our  troops  in  the  neighborhood, 
Doctor?" 

"  Yes — do  you  wish  to  join  them?  " 

"  Yes  ;  "  after  swallowing  a  lump  in  his  throat,  which 
may  have  been  the  insinuation  contained  in  the  ques- 
tion. 

The  Doctor  did  not  believe  in  this  "  yes  "  ;  in  fact,  he 
smiled  to  himself  at  the  idea  of  Arthur  Slaton  wanting 
to  do  his  duty  at  this  late  day. 

"  Well,  Harris's  regiment  is  camped  at  the  old  '  Camp 
Ground '  to-night.  You  can  join  them  there  now,  or  at 
Somerville  to-morrow  morning,  as  I  understand  that  they 
are  coming  this  way." 

"Thank  you."  His  voice,  however,  did  not  evince 
any  superabundance  of  gratitude.  He  was  already 
hatching  in  his  mind  some  scheme  of  vengeance  against 
Wyndship,  and  this  particular  regiment  and  its  Colonel 
were  not  at  all  suited  to  his  purpose. 

"  They  would  be  a  good  regiment  to  join,"  continued 
the  Doctor,  still  smiling  to  himself;  "you  know  their 
reputation  as  good  fighters.  But  how  comes  it  that  3'ou 
are  leaving  Belleview  so  early  to-night?  I  would  have 
thought  it  an  impossibility  for  you  to  have  torn  j^ourself 
away  before  morning." 

"  I  didn't  like  the  company  they  have  up  there." 

"  Indeed?     Who  is  there?  " 

"A  Yankee  officer."  A  minute  later  he  would  have 
gladly  recalled  both  these  answers,  but  it  was  then  too 
late  ;  in  fact,  he  had  not  yet  regained  his  customary 
shrewdness  and  cunning. 

"A  Yankee  officer?"  repeated  Dr.  Hurst,  in  surprise. 
"  How  is  that — who  is  it?  " 

Arthur  hesitated,  mentally  cursing  his  unthoughtful- 
ness  in  having  made  such  an  excuse  ;  but  it  was  now  too 
late,  for  his  questioner  had  become  deeply  interested, 
and  quickly  repeated  the  inquiry. 


BELLEVIEW.  287 

**  "Who  is  it,  and  bow  many  men  has  he  with  him?  " 

"Oh,  he's  alone.  It  is  Wyndship — the  fellow  that 
taught  school  here,  just  before  the  war." 

"Ah!" 

"He  claims  to  be  only  making  the  family  a  friendly 
visit,  but  I'll  bet  he's  up  to  some  mischief.  It  both  sur- 
prised and  disgusted  me,  to  see  the  old  Colonel  '  making 
such  a  to-do  '  over  a  Yankee — an  officer  in  Sherman's 
army — and  I  left." 

"  It  was  a  violence  done  to  your  patriotism,  eh?  " 

Arthur  did  not  reply.  He  was  sharp  enough  to  see 
that  this  was  another  fling  at  his — well,  at  his  conserva- 
tism with  regard  to  the  active  service.  These  inuendoes 
had  long  ago  grown  monotonous,  and  had  often  caused 
him  to  grind  his  teeth  in  impotent  anger.  Just  then  he 
was  longing  for  the  power  to  avenge  himself  against 
Wyndship,  and  would  have  liked  very  well  to  include 
some  others  in  the  punishment,  but  it  was  impolitic  to 
exhibit  this  feeling  to  the  Doctor ;  consequentl}^,  with 
an  extra  effort,  he  controlled  his  passion.  "  AVell,  I 
must  be  going  ;  I  want  to  join  some  command  to-night, 
or  to-morrow,  and  must  go  by  hom^e  first.  There  was  a 
squad  of  Yankees  in  here  this  evening  that  might  be 
killed  or  captured,  if  I  can  find  some  help  before  it  is 
too  late." 

Dr.  Hurst  again  smiled  to  himself  as  the  other  rode 
off.  He  thought  it  was  a  very  small  squad  that  Arthur 
Slaton  would  attempt  to  capture,  with  even  a  regiment 
at  his  back.  But  his  thoughts  •  quickly  reverted  to  the 
startling  information  that  the  latter  had  inadvertently 
let  slip.  "  Wyndship  at  Belleview,"  he  mused  to  him- 
self, still  sitting  quiet  on  his  horse,  "what  did  that 
mean?"  He  did  not  remain  conjecturing  long,  how- 
ever, but,  muttering  to  himself,  "  I'll  go  by  and  tell  him," 
turned  his  horse  through  the  gate. 

Arthur  took  the  road  that  led  by  his  father's  home, 
which  lay  about  three  miles  east  of  Belleview  and  Som- 
erville,  nearer  the  river.  It  was  a  dark  and  lonesome 
ride  ;  one  that  in  his  ordinary  state  of  mind  he  would  not 
have  dared  to  take  just  at  this  dangerous  time.  The 
knowledge  that  his  late  captors  had  gone  in  that  direc- 
tion, and  might  still  be  lingering  in  the  neighborhood, 
would  have  kept  him  at  Belleview,  or  sent  him  to  Somer- 
ville  as  the  safer  direction ;  but   this   night   his   heart 


288         ARTHUR    RALLIES    AND    REIORJIS    HIS    FORCES. 

was  too  full  of  hatred  towards  Wyndship,  his  miDd 
too  much  engrossed  with  schemes  of  revenge  to 
take  this  fact  and  this  possibility  into  consideration. 
In  his  ordinary  self,  once  awaj^  from  the  protecting  pres- 
ence of  others,  his  craven  heait  would  have  jumped  and 
quaked  at  every  denser  shadow  that  crossed  his  path ; 
and  at  every  noise,  at  every  croak  of  a  frog,  or  every 
hoot  of  an  owl,  which  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
For  once  he  had  been  fairly  balked  and  exposed  ;  and 
not  only  had  he  suffered  disgrace  and  humiliation  before 
the  woman  he  wanted  to  make  his  wife,  but  he  had  also 
to  suffer  additional  stings  through  the  contemptuous 
scoffs  and  acts  of  an  exultant  rival.  Oh,  hoAv  he  longed 
for  vengeance  ;  but  study  and  scheme  as  much  as  he 
might,  he  could  think  of  no  safe  method  of  retaliation. 
The  regiment  of  Confederates  at  the  old  "Camp 
Ground,"  would  not  at  all  answer  his  purpose.  Colonel 
Harris,  he  remembered,  as  having  been  on  rather  good 
terms  with  his  eneni}^  before  the  war ;  besides,  he  was 
an  old  and  close  friend  to  both  Elma  and  the  Gachets, 
and  no  doubt  would  be  governed  by  their  wishes,  should 
he  make  Wyndship  a  prisoner — paroling  him  at  once, 
and  leaving  him  at  Belleview  in  safety  and — happiness. 
No,  he  must  devise  some  other  method,  even  if  it  was 
nothing  better  than  to  waylay  him  on  the  road  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  to  shoot  him  down  as  he  passed.  But  there  was 
more  personal  risk  in  this  course  than  he  cared  to  take — 
his  shot  might  miss  its  mark,  and  in  return,  he  might  be- 
come the  target  of  the  other's  pistol.  But  what  else 
could  he  do  ?  and  where  could  he  find  the  assistance  he 
desired  ? 

' '  Halt !     Who  comes  there  ?  " 

He  had  nearly  reached  his  father's  home,  and  was 
turning  a  corner  at  the  mouth  of  a  lane,  when  this  or- 
der, accompanied  by  the  ominous  clicking  of  a  gun  ham- 
mer, came  like  an  unexpected  thunder-clap,  sending  his 
heart  in  one  spasmodic  bounce  clear  up  into  his  throat. 

"Who's  there,  I  say?  Speak  out,  or  3'ou're  a  dead 
man."  The  voice  evidently  meant  business,  and  Slaton 
instinctively  knew  tliat  he  did  not  have  much  time  to 
lose  in  collecting  his  scattered  senses. 

"A  friend,"  he  quavered,  in  accents  of  pitiful  ter- 
ror. 


VEliEYIEW.  289 

*'A  friend  to  which  side?  To  the  '  Yank's  or  Corn- 
feds?'  " 

The  expression  "To the  Yanks  or  Cornfeds,"  indicated 
that  the  challenger  belonged  to  the  latter,  still  it  was  not 
conclusive,  and  there  was  yet  danger  in  aligning  himself 
on  either  side. 

"  I'm  a  peaceful  citizen,  going  to  my  home.'* 

"  If  you're  a  citizen  of  this  country,  it  oughtn't  to  be 
so  blamed  hard  to  say  which  side  you  b'long  to.  I 
reckon  we'll  have  to  take  you  in  out  of  the  cold — till  you 
make  up  your  mind,  at  least.  Close  in  on  that  side,  Jim, 
an'  shoot  if  he  tries  to  run."  In  obedience  to  this  or- 
der, another  dim  figure  appeared  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road  almost  in  an  arm's  length  of  Slaton. 

"Don't  shoot,  gentlemen — for  God's  sake,  don't 
shoot  I  I'm  unarmed,  and  belong  to  your  side — to  the 
Southern  side." 

"  Who  are  you,  then?  " 

*'My  name  is  Slaton,  and  I  live  up  at  the  next 
house." 

"  Why  in  the  h 1  didn't  you  say  so  at  once?     If 

you  had,  we  wouldn't  have  treated  you  so  rough.  I 
reckon  you're  kin  to  our  Captain  ?  " 

"  What  is  your  Captain's  name  ?  "  asked  Slaton  eag- 
erly, trying  hard  to  control  his  still  trembling  voice. 

"  Barnes." 

"  Captain  Barnes  of  the  '  Cumberland  Scouts'?  " 

"  That's  about  the  size  on  it,  I  reckon." 

"  Certainly — he's  my  cousin."  There  was  a  wonder- 
ful change  taking  place  in  the  tones  of  his  voice.  Fear 
was  vanishing,  and  hope  of  a  chance  for  a  new  deal  was 
taking  swift  root  in  his  mind. 

"  This  must  be  Captain  Slaton?"  said  the  soldier  who 
had  been  silent  up  to  this  time. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  eager  response. 

"  Edwards,  I'll  walk  up  to  the  house  with  the  Captain, 
while  you  remain  on  post." 

This  proposal  being  agreed  to,  Slaton  and  his  escort 
started  up  the  road. 

"  Captain  Barnes  is  np  to  the  house  now,  paying 
your  folks  a  visit,"  said  the  soldier,  commencing  a  con- 
versation. 

"  What  time  did  you  get  here? " 

"  'Bout  sundown  ;  and  just  in  time  to  nab  a  party  of 


290        ARTHUR    RALLIES    JOUD    REFORMS    HIS    FORCES. 

Yankee  bummers,  who  were  so  busy  robbing  houses  an' 
drinking  bust- head,  that  I  reckon  they  forgot  the  time 
of  day,  or  whar'  they  were." 

"  Captured  a  party  of  Yankees?  "  exclaimed  Arthur, 
with  sharply  increased  interest.  "  How  many  were 
they?" 

"  Five  or  six.  We  killed  one,  captured  three,  and  I 
think  one  or  two  got  away.  They  were  all  powerful 
drunk — at  least,  the  three  were  that  we  captured.  But 
I'll  bet  a  Cornf ed'rate  X  against  a  nigger's  tooth-pick 
that  they're  sober  enough  by  this  time,  for  the  Captain 
swears  by  the  Eternal  God — an'  told  'em  so,  too — that 
he  was  going  to  hang  all  three  in  the  mornin'." 

Arthur  surmised  that  these  were  a  part  of  the  gang 
from  whose  hands  Wyndship  had  rescued  Elma  and  him- 
self that  afternoon — a  surmise  that  he  soon  had  an  op- 
portunity of  verifying.  The  Scouts  were  camped  by  the 
side  of  the  road  in  some  timber,  just  west  of  the  house, 
and  as  they  passed,  he  recognized  one  of  the  prisoners 
as  Lieutenant  Blufkins.  Relieved  now  from  all  fear,  his 
crafty  brain  was  soon  engaged  in  hatching  some  plot 
against  the  safety  of  his  triumphant  rival.  This  cousin 
and  his  company,  he  imagined,  were  the  right  sort  to 
render  him  the  needed  assistance,  for  if  they  were  so 
ready  to  hang  the  three  bummers,  it  certainly  would  not 
be  hard  to  induce  them  to  perform  the  same  office  for 
Wyndship,  on  the  plea  of  his  being  a  spy.  They  were 
indeed  a  rough-looking  set,  and  their  commander  at  first 
glance,  seemed  to  be  one  of  them — to  be  qualified  in 
every  way  to  act  as  their  leader.  On  a  closer  inspec- 
tion, however,  of  his  kinsman,  whom  he  had  hitherto 
known  by  reputation  only,  he  concluded  that  it  might  be 
advisable  to  use  a  little  artifice  beforehand  in  exciting 
their  resentment  against  Wyndship  ;  moreover,  his  na- 
ture was  not  such  as  prompted  a  straightforward  course, 
even  when  excited  with  passion  and  thirsting  for  re- 
venge. With  a  little  time  to  arrange  his  ideas  he  felt 
confident  of  being  able  to  invent  some  tale,  or  produce 
some  circumstance  that  would  start  them  like  relentless 
bloodhounds  on  his  enemy's  trail.  Reckless  and  desper- 
ate as  they  looked,  these  men  and  their  Captain  were 
soniething  better  than  guerillas,  as  was  shown  by  the 
fact  that  they  had  left  the  rugged  fastness  of  their  na- 
tive mountains  in  Tennessee  and  North  Alabama  to  keep 


BELLEVIEW.  291 

up  the  unequal  struggle  with  Sherman's  army.  They 
were  not  fighting  for  booty,  nor  altogether  for  revenge, 
although  the  latter  feeling  no  doubt  held  a  prominent 
place  along  with  fidelity  to  their  cause. 

It  would  have  been  amusing  to  most  of  Captain  Ar- 
thur Slaton's  acquaintances  to  have  heard  him  "talking 
war  "to  his  cousin.  No  one,  not  even  "Old  Colonel 
Gachet,"  could  have  been  more  eager  "  to  shed  his  last 
drop  of  blood,  or  more  determined  to  convert  the  last 
ditch  into  a  heroic  grave."  The  blood  of  a  dozen  Yan- 
kees would  not  near  have  satisfied  his  appetite  for  gore  ; 
in  fact,  he  could  have  devoured  that  many  for  breakfast 
without  salt  or  pepper,  and  still  have  an  aching  void  cry- 
ing relentlessly  for  more.  So  enthusiastic  did  he  be- 
come, that  when  late  bed-time  sent  Barnes  to  a  downy 
couch,  made  more  luxurious  by  j^ears  of  deprivation, 
Arthur  must  need  seek  congenial  companionship  around 
the  camp-fires. ;  v   * ' 

The  Scouts,  worn  out  by  arduous  service,  had  mostly 
rolled  themselves  up  in  their  wretched  blankets,  and  did 
not  seem  to  appreciate,  or  to  be  in  a  humor  to  participate 
in  his  enthusiasm  ;  even  the  single  sentry  that  stood 
guard  over  the  three  prisoners  seemed  more  inclined  to 
envy  his  comrades'  enjoyment  of  sleep,  than  to  recount 
deeds  of  valor,  past  and  to  come.  He  could  not  see 
why  the  hanging  could  not  have  been  done  that  night 
as  well  as  in  the  morning,  thereby  saving  him 
some  hours  of  weary  vigil.  But  Arthur  felt  philan- 
thropic as  well  as  warlike,  and  soon  proposed  to 
relieve  him  of  his  duty  as  guard,  permitting  him  to  ob- 
tain the  few  hours'  sleep  he  was  begrudging.  Strict 
army  regulations  were  unknown  in  this  command,  con- 
sequently the  soldier  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  gen- 
erous offer — a  Confederate  officer,  and  a  cousin  of  his 
Captain,  could,  of  course,  be  entrusted  with  the  keeping 
o'f  the  prisoners. 

Slaton's  escort  was  not  far  wrong  in  expressing  the 
opinion  that  the  captive  bummers  were  sobering  up  un- 
der the  knowledge  of  the  doom  which  awaited  them  on 
the  dawning  of  another  day,  and  this  appeared  especially 
to  be  the  case  with  Lieutenant  Biufkins.  Moreover,  the 
latter  was  suffering  with  his  head,  which  showed  an  ugly 
scalp  wound  caused  by  AVyndship's  pistol ;  and  pain 
from  this,  coupled  with  probnbl}-  some  very  unpleasant 


21):^         ARTHUR    RALLIES    AND    REFORMS    HIS    FORCES.      . 

reflections,  was  keeping  him  wide  awake.  The  volun- 
teer guard  must  have  had  an  uncontrollable  desire  to 
talk  with  some  one,  for  scarcely  had  quiet  settled  down 
throughout  the  little  camp,  than  he  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  this  prisoner.  This  conversation  must  have 
been  very  interesting  to  them  both,  for  it  continued  for 
some  time,  during  which  they  were  very  much  engrossed 
with  each  other,  and,  seemingly,  ending  eminently  satis- 
factory to  both  parties.  At  any  rate,  when  the  soldier 
to  whom  had  been  assigned  the  duty  of  standing  guard 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  night,  came  to  relieve 
Arthur,  the  latter  walked  away  with  a  smile  on  his  thin 
lips  and  an  exultant  glee  in  his  close-set  eyes,  while 
Blufkins  himself  was  doing  less  cursing  and  groaning, 
and  seemed  in  a  far  more  comfortable  frame  of  mind. 

Captain  Barnes  was  awakened  early  next  morning  and 
informed  that  one  of  his  prisoners  claimed  to  possess 
some  information  that  was  of  the  utmost  importance  for 
the  Confederate  authorities  to  know.  This  information 
he  offered  to  sell  for  the  consideration  that  he  and  his 
comrades'  sentence  of  hanging  be  remitted.  Irritated 
by  the  interruption  of  his  morning  nap,  Barnes  was  not 
inclined  to  pay  much  attention  to  the  proposition.  "  It 
is  only  some  tale  they've  hatched  out  to  save  their 
necks,"  he  grumbled.  "  Get  out  your  ropes  and  skear 
'em  some  more  ;  but  you  needn't  do  the  hanging  'til  I 
give  the  word."  And  forthwith  the  Captain  turned 
over,  intending  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  a  good  bed  to  the 
utmost.  This  good  resolution,  however,  like  most 
others  that  are  formed  by  mankind,  was  destined  never 
to  be  carried  out,  for  his  follower  soon  returned,  stating 
that  there  might  be  something  in  the  Yank's  tale  after 
all ;  which  was,  that  a  plot  had  been  formed  to  liberate 
the  prisoners  at  Andersonville. 

"  He  says  that  the  Yankee  officer  appointed  to  carry 
out  the  scheme  is  in  the  neighborhood,  and  can  be  cap- 
tured if  we  act  promptly,"  continued  the  interrupter  of 
the  morning  nap. 

This  quickly  brought  Barnes  to  his  feet  and  into  his 
clothing.  Just  at  this  time  the  Confederates  were  feel- 
ing considerable  uneasiness  about  Andersonville,  as  was 
shown  by  the  fact  that  they  had  disposed  of  all  their 
available  forces  in  such  a  manner  as  to  resist  any  move- 
ment of  the  Federals  tliat  way  ;  but  they  were  paiiif  uUv 


BELLEVIEW.  293 

conscious  of  their  own  weakness  and  inability  to  success- 
fully resist  anything  like  a  determined  advance  by  their 
enemy  in  any  direction.  Consequently,  the  hint  of  a 
plot  to  release  the  prisoners  there  was  considered  by  the 
scouts  as  a  subject  worthy  of  immediate  attention. 

Notwithstanding  his  active  service  during  the  night, 
Arthur's  patriotism  had  become  too  strong  to  permit  late 
sleeping  on  his  part,  and  hearing  something  of  what  was 
going  on,  he  hastened  to  join  his  cousin  at  the  camp. 
The  latter  had  never  really  intended  hanging  his  pris- 
oners, and  did  not  hesitate  long  before  accepting  Bluf- 
kins's  terms,  who,  in  return,  proceeded  to  relate  ins  tale, 
the  sum  and  substance  of  which  was  as  follows: 

When  the  Union  army  was  still  in  Atlanta  the  ques- 
tion of  making  some  effort  to  liberate  the  prisoners  at 
Andersonville  was  discussed  among  the  leaders.  It  was 
first  proposed  to  do  this  by  a  bold  dash  of  the  cavalry ; 
but,  on  consideration,  this  idea  was  abandoned,  as  the 
commander-in-chief  was  not  willing  to  spare  the  large 
force  necessary  to  make  it  successful ;  besides,  it  was 
argued,  no  doubt  the  ubiquitous  Wheeler,  with  his  horse 
infantry,  would  be  on  the  watch  to  head  off  the  move- 
ment, and  convert  it  into  another  Stoneman  fiasco.  (No- 
where was  the  Little  Cavalryman  held  in  higher  esteem 
than  among  those  who  had  suffered  from  his  lightning- 
like blows) .  At  length  the  following  plan  was  adopted, 
as  i^romising  some  hope  of  success  with  a  small  expendi- 
ture of  means.  Small  parties  were  to  be  sent  out  from 
the  main  body  of  cavalry,  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of 
foraging  and  depredating  on  the  country,  but  all  moving- 
south  by  different  roads  and  by-waj^s.  As  far  as  they 
could  be  obtained,  each  man  was  supplied  with  Confed- 
erate uniforms,  and  where  they  were  not  to  be  had  were 
to  secure  citizens'  clothing  from  houses  on  the  way ; 
these  disguises  they  were  to  assume  as  soon  as  they 
passed  beyond  the  territory  covered  by  the  right  wing  of 
the  Federal  army.  Passing  themselves  off  as  Rebel  sol- 
diers, they  were  to  rendezvous  at  a  certain  place  in 
Southern  Georgia,  and,  under  the  pretence  of  being  or- 
dered to  Andersonville  to  reinforce  or  relieve  the  guard, 
were  to  effect  a  surprise,  release  and  arm  the  prisoners 
with  such  weapons  as  could  be  obtained,  and  then  make 
a  dash  to  rejoin  the  Federal  army  at  Savannah.  In  sup- 
port of  this  tale  he  referred  his  auditors  to  the  Rebel 


204  ARTHUR   RALLIES    AND    REFORMS    HIS    FORCES. 

uniforms  and   citizens'  clothing  that   had   been   found 
snugly  enfolded  in  their  blankets. 

This  plan  had  been  adopted  at  the  instance  of  one 
Major  Wyndship,  who  had  resided  in  this  part  of  the 
state  before  the  war,  and  who  professed  to  have  some 
knowledge  of  the  country.  This  ofiicer  was  to  command 
the  expedition,  and,  if  successful,  was  to  be  rewarded 
with  a  Brigadier-General's  commission.  AVyndship,  he 
stated,  had  accompanied  his  party,  and  had  brought 
them  somewhat  out  of  the  way  for  the  purpose  of  visit- 
ing some  acquaintances  in  the  neighborhood,  and  to 
wreak  revenge  on  some  personal  enemies.  That  when 
they  got  in  sight  of  the  house  where  the  former  intended 
to  spend  the  night,  he  had  ordered  them  to  take  a  certain 
road  going  east,  giving  them  minute  directions  how  to 
find  the  home  of  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Slaton. 
This  person,  together  with  his  son  (if  found  at  home), 
they  were  instructed  to  murder,  and  then  to  burn  his 
house  to  the  ground. 

''Great  God!"  cried  Arthur,  with  an  assumption  of 
holy  horror.  ''  To  think  that  Wyndship,  who  once  pro- 
fessed to  be  my  friend — aye,  even  as  late  as  last  night 
lie  declared  as  much — should  attempt  mine  and  my 
father's  life  in  such  a  treacherous  manner." 

"He  wants  to  kill  us,"  added  his  father,  who  had 
joined  them,  "for  no  other  reason  than  because  I  op- 
posed his  havin'  the  school  here  before  the  war.  I 
:!ll'us  said  he  wouldn't  do — the  black-hearted  Yankee 
scoundrel !  " 

"  You  say  you  saw  him  last  night?  "  demanded  Barnes 
of  Arthur. 

"Yes;  I  saw  him  at  Colonel  Gachet's — that's  where 
he  staid  all  night." 

' '  Why  didn't  you  capture  or  kill  him  then  ?  " 

"  Because — because  he — he  claimed  that  he  liad  left 
the  Yankee  army,  and  intended  joining  the  first  South- 
ern command  he  could  find.  I — I  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve him,  but  he  talked  so  fair,  and  promised  so  much, 
I  thought  I  would  give  him  a  chance.  That  is  the  rea- 
son I  said  nothing  to  j'ou  of  his  being  there,  last  night. 
I  knew  you  would  think  it  your  duty  to  make  him  a 
prisoner,  and — and  I  thought  if  he  was  honest  in  his 
professions  he  ought  to  have  a  chance.  I  never  dreamt 
that  he  could  be  guilty  of  such  black  treachery  as  this.'* 


BELLEYIEW.  295 

''What  were  3^011  to  do  next,  3^011  hell-hounds,  you?" 
cried  the  Captain,  now  thoroughly  enraged,  turning  back 
to  Blufkins. 

' '  AYe — we  were  to  stay  around  here  'til  this  morning, 
when  he  was  to  join  us.  Then  we  were  to  take  to  the 
woods,  change  our  uniforms,  and  make  our  way  through 
your  lines." 

"  This  is  the  truth  you  are  telling  me?  " 

"It's  the  tru t]i.  Captain,  so  help  me  God.  I'm  sorry 
I  ever  engaged  in  such  r.n  enterprise,  'specially  that  part 
relating  to  the  killing  of  Mr.  Slaton,  but  I  was  drunk 
3^esterdny,  and  didn't  know  what  I  Avas  doing.  He  per- 
suaded and  threatened  me  into  it." 

"  You  d d  rascals,  hanging  is  entirely  too  good  for 

you.  Hello,  DaAvson  !  "  calling  to  his  Lieutenant,  "have 
me  a  detail  of  five  or  six  men  with  good  horses  mounted 
at  once.  Select  those  with  the  best  horses,  and  have 
them  ready  in  half  a  minute." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  asked  Arthur,  in  sud- 
den alarm. 

"  I  am  going  after  that  d d  blue-bellied  Y^ankee 

Major  before  he  gets  away.  IMy  men  shan't  be  cheated 
out  of  a  hanging  this  time,  to  a  dead  moral  certain- 
t-y-ty." 

But  this  was  a  move  that  might  spoil  Arthur's  little 
game.  He  knew  if  Barnes  went  to  Belleview  he  would 
doubtless  learn  the  truth,  and  the  result  would  be  his, 
not  Wyndship's  downfall ;  so  he  set  to  work  to  dissuade 
him  from  this  course.  He  represented  Colonel  Gachet 
as  a  hot-headed,  stubborn  old  fellow,  who  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  his  guest  for  some  supposed  service.  "  He  will 
certainly  take  sides  with  the  Y^ankee,"  he  said,  "  and  as 
he  has  considerable  influence  with  the  Confederate  au- 
thorities  you  will  only  get  j^ourself  into  trouble." 

"His  influence  be  d d.     I'll  hang  the  old  fellow 

himself  for  harboring  a  sp}^,  if  he   gets  to  cutting  up." 

"Y'ou  do  not  know  who  you  are  talking  about. 
Colonel  Gachet  is  the  most  prominent  man  in  the 
county  — has  represented  the  State  in  the  Confederate 
Congress,  and  is  on  the  best  of  terms  with  President 
Davis." 

"What  would  you  have  me  do,  then — let  the  scound- 
rel get  away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.    It  will  be  easy  enough  to  capture  him  after 


296    ARTHUR  RALLIES  AND  REFORMS  HIS  FORCES. 

he  leaves  there.  You  remember  Bhifkins  says  he  was 
to  join  him  here  this  morning — to  do  so  he  will  have  to 
come  one  of  the  two  roads.  All  that  you  have  to  do  is 
to  conceal  a  party  on  each  road,  one  of  which  will  be 
certain  to  capture  him.  I  know  he  will  be  coming  this 
way,  for  Harris's  regiment  is  a  few  miles  beyond  Somer- 
ville,  and  as  he  was  informed  of  this  fact  he  will  hurry 
this  way.  He  has  no  suspicion  of  your  presence  here — 
I  left  Colonel  Gachet's  last  night  after  supper,  and  no 
one  had  heard  of  your  being  in  the  neighborhood." 

Arthur's  arguments  were  plausible,  and,  after  a  little, 
prevailed. 

As  there  Avas  no  time  to  be  lost,  the  details  of  his 
plan  for  capture  were  soon  settled,  and  the  necessary  ar- 
rangements made  to  put  them  into  execution.  Captain 
Barnes,  with  part  of  his  men,  taking  Blufkins  with 
them,  left  to  take  a  position  on  the  upper  or  more  north- 
ern road  ;  while  Dawson,  with  another  party,  was  to  am- 
bush the  southern  route,  which  was  not  so  frequently 
travelled.  The  company  of  scouts  were  small,  and  only 
two  were  left  at  the  camp  to  guard  the  two  remaining 
prisoners.  Slaton  also  elected  to  remain,  giving  as  an 
excuse  that  he  did  not  have  the  heart  to  look  again 
on  the  face  of  the  man  who,  while  claiming  to  be  his 
most  devoted  friend,  was  secretly  plotting  his  death. 
His  abhorrence  or  anything  like  deceit  or  treachery  was 
so  great,  that  his  self-possession  could  not  stand  the 
strain  which  such  a  meeting  would  cause.  In  truth, 
while  secretly  rejoicing  over  his  success,  still  there  were 
bounds  to  even  his  effrontery,  and  he  did  not  care  to 
meet  Wyndship's  eye.  It  had  been  settled  that  the  exe- 
cution should  take  place  at  the  place  of  capture,  and  he 
decided  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  beholding  it,  rather 
than  come  face  to  face  with  the  innocent  man  he  was 
hounding  to  death. 

After  the  parties  had  left,  he  found  plenty  of  time  for 
rejoicing  in  secret  over  his  anticipated  revenge,  and  for 
admiring  the  finesse  of  his  own  scheming.  A  few  hours 
more,  and  this  mocking,  scornful  Yankee  would  not  find 
everything  going  so  smoothly  as  it  did  last  night.  He 
would  find  pit-falls  in  his  way,  deeper  and  more  perilous 
than  any  he  had  hitherto  met — his  triumph  would  turn 
to  defeat  and  death — the  golden  apple  of  his  love  and 
happiness  J  to  the  bitterest  of  ashes.    If  Arthur  did  mt 


BELLEVIEW.  297 

put  it  ill  this  form  exactly,  still  his  cnjoj^ment  was  not 
circumscribed  in  its  limits,  because  his  mind  was  nerv- 
ous, his  morals  perverted,  and  his  tastes  mean  and  grov- 
elling in  tlieir  nature.  Revenge  was  as  sweet  to  him  as 
it  would  have  been,  could  he  have  celebrated  its  accom- 
plishment in  strains  of  "  Homeric  measure." 

But  even  such  pleasures  as  this  have  their  price  and 
their  drawbacks,  for  the  purpose,  probably,  of  rectif}^- 
ing  the  balance  of  eartlily  felicity.  Even  such  geniuses 
as  himself  must  have  their  share  of  vexations  and  an- 
noyances, and  doubts  began  to  arise  as  to  the  sufficiency 
of  his  plot.  Had  he  rivetted  and  dove-tailed  its  various 
parts  sufficiently  strong  to  stand  even  a  partial  investi- 
gation? His  fears,  which  were  always  easily  aroused, 
told  him  no.  The  facts  and  tlie  tale  he  had  put  into 
Blufkins's  mouth  did  not  fit  so  exactly  as  he  had  imagined 
at  first,  when  under  excitement ;  and  should  his  cousin, 
after  capturing  Wyndship,  give  him  anything  like  a  fair 
trial,  there  was  danger  of  the  whole  affair  exploding  the 
wrong  way — "of  an  engineer  being  blown  up  by  his  own 
petard."  The  prisoner  might  induce  his  captors  to  take 
him  back  to  Belle  view  or  to  Somerville,  to  prove  his 
character ;  and  then,  to  use  a  home-wove  expression, 
"  the  fat  would  be  in  the  fire."  The  more  he  thought 
about  it,  the  more  listless  he  became,  and  wandering 
around  he  came  near  enough  to  the  two  guards  to  hear  a 
fragment  of  their  conversation. 

"  I'll  bet  yer  that  there'll  be  no  hanging,  nor  no  shootin'  "-^' 
nuther,  onless  the  Yank  shows  fight,"  remarked  one  to 
the  other. 

"  The  Capt'n  'peared  to  be  pow'ful  in  arnest." 

"Don't  kear.  AYhen  it  comes  ter  pris'ners,  his  bark 
is  alius  worse  than  his  bite." 

"Do  you  think  he'll  let'im  off,  after  sendin'  them 
d d  bummers  here  to  kill  his  uncle  and  cousin !  " 

"  Oh,  fiddlesticks^  that  tale's  too  thin.  If  you'd  no- 
ticed what  I  did  Ifsf  night" — here  the  speaker  became 
aware  of  Slaton's  proximity,  and  lowered  his  voice  ;  but 
the  latter  had  heard  enough.  Trembling  all  over  with  a 
mixture  of  fear  and  anger — fear  of  the  result  to  him- 
self, and  anger  at  fate,  which  was  continually  marring 
his  plans — he  hurried  away.  Evidently  this  fellow's  sus- 
picions had  beeu  excited,  either  by  his  volunteering  to 
gtaud  guar^  oyer  tbe  prisoners  last  nighty  or  what  ty(v^ 


298        ARTHUR  RALLIES   AND   REFORMS   HIS    FORCES. 

worse,  had  witnessed  his  long  conversation  with  Bhif- 
kins.  Probably  others  of  his  comrades  also  had  sus- 
picions, and  would  be  influenced  by  them  in  Wyndship's 
behalf.  What  must  he  do?  Failure  of  his  plot,  and 
consequent  exposure,  would  disgrace  him  forever — even 
his  own  side  his  own  neighbors,  would  hold  him  in  exe- 
cration ;  while  his  enemy,  again  triumphant,  would  be- 
come the  popular  hero.  Ordering  out  his  horse,  he  at 
first  resolved  to  flee  ;  but  remembering  that  even  in 
case  of  failure  he  would  not  be  likely  to  suffer  any 
physical  punishment,  he  hesitated.  Then,  too,  his  fears 
might  be  exaggerated.  The  prejudices  of  the  scouts 
would  naturally  be  against  Wyndship,  and  in  his  favor ; 
besides,  it  would  be  the  height  of  pusillanimity  to  take 
flight  before  failure  was  assured.  Everything  might  be 
going  all  right,  and  Wyndship  be  even  then  suffering  the 
fate  he  had  prepared  for  liim.  Why  not  go  and  see  how 
matters  were  progressing  before  giving  up  the  fight? 
Then,  too,  his  presence  might  prove  advantageous  to  his 
interest — his  influence  might  turn  the  balance  in  a  doubt- 
ful case.  One  voice  ;  aye,  one  word  even,  of  the  right 
kind,  and  at  the  right  moment,  will  decide  a  case  in 
law,  and  why  not  in  this  matter?  He  ouglit  not  to  have 
let  a  few  qualms  and  scruples  keep  him  from  going  with 
his  cousin,  for  it  was  his  fight,  and  if  he  won,  success 
would  amply  repay  for  the  violence  done  to  his  feelings, 
or  for  the  opprobrium  that  participation  might  bring  to 
his  reputation  in  the  estimation  of  some. 

These  considerations  decided  him,  and  mounting  his 
horse,  he  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  nearest  ambush, 
resolved  that  if  his  revenge  had  not  already  been  accom- 
plished, and  the  use  of  a  glib  tongue  well  fortified  with 
specious  arguments,  and  thoroughly  versed  in  the  art  of 
manufacturing  falsehoods,  could  effect  its  execution,  then 
there  should  be  no  miscaiTiage  this  time. 


BELLEVIEW.  299 

CHAPTER   IX 

WYNDSHIP'S  CAPTURE  AND  TRIAL. 

Wyndship  rode  rapidly  down  the  avenue  and  along 
the  road  until  he  hnd  passed  out  of  sight  of  any  one 
standing  on  the  piazza  at  Belleview,  and  then  brought 
his  horse  down  to  a  moderate  gait.  His  hurry  was  not 
prompted  by  fear  of  capture,  but  by  a  desire  to  relieve 
Elma  of  all  anxiety  on  his  account.  He  reasoned  to 
himself  that  the  Confederates,  aware  of  their  great  dis- 
parity in  numbers,  would  advance  with  caution  ;  besides, 
he  did  not  believe  that  his  old  friend.  Colonel  Harris, 
would  make  any  effort  to  capture  him,  or  that  his  fate 
would  be  at  all  onerous,  should  he  accidentally  fall  into 
his  hands.  While  the  Federal  cavalry  could  not  be  far 
distant,  still  he  knew  there  was  a  long  ride  ahead  of  him 
before  he -could  overtake  the  main  column,  and  conse- 
quently it  was  advisable  that  he  husband  the  strength 
and  endurance  of  his  steed.  In  fact,  he  was  somewhat 
mistaken  as  to  the  proximity  of  the  former,  for  having 
learned  by  experience  that  "The  Little  Cavahyman '' 
did  not  always  "  stop  to  count  noses,"  they  had,  in  the 
last  few  days,  adopted  the  safer  policy  of  destroying  less 
country  and  keeping  nearer  their  infantry  supports.  Not 
knowing  all  this,  he  imagined  that  the  hour's  moderate 
ride,  which  would  carry  him  across  the  river,  would  also 
place  him  beyond  any  danger  of  molestation. 

The  clouds  of  the  previous  day  had  vanished,  the 
morning  was  perfectly  clear,  and  just  cool  enough  to  be 
bracing.  The  breeze  had  not  yet  risen,  and  the  mourn- 
ful soughing  of  the  pines  had  not  begun.  As  Wyndship 
started  on  his  journey  the  sun  had  just  appeared  above 
the  eastern  hills,  and  its  bright  rays  converted  the  drops 
of  moisture  on  bush  and  tree  into  a  thousand  sparkling 
diamonds,  which  seemed  to  send  back  coquettish  glances 
in  response  to  the  Day  God's  ardent  gaze,  unmindful  of 
the  fact  that  his  fiery  favors  would  soon  be  their  undoing. 
The  birds  of  a  southern  winter  were  flitting  joyfully 
from  seed-laden  grass  to  acorn-bearing  boughs,  chirping 
and  trilling  forth  their  glee  and  gratitude  for  the  profuse 
bounties  of   a  loving  Maker,     In  theii*  kingdom  there 


300  WYNDSIIIP^S    CAPTURE    AND    TRIAL. 

were  no  quarrels  and  bloodshed,  no  war  and  murder,  just 
now — only  love,  and  peace,  and  plenty. 

Wyndship's  heart  responded  to  the  jo^^ousness  of  na- 
ture, and  revelled  in  its  deliglits  as  well  as  in  those  of 
his  own  happiness.  He  loved,  and  was  loved  in  return. 
Does  not  that  fact  cover  the  height,  and  breadth,  and 
depth  of  human  happiness?  "What  mattered  a  few  days, 
or  even  weeks  of  separation,  when  it  would  only  add  in- 
creased felicity  to  the  next  meeting?  After  this,  noth- 
ing would  ever  again  come  betvveen  them  ;  but  together, 
down  the  thoroughfare  of  the  future,  they  would  go 
hand  in  hand,  and  heart  with  heart  interlocked. 
Through  the  clouds  of  strife,  and  war,  and  misery, 
the  sunshine  of  perfect  love  would  pierce,  lighting  their 
footsteps  safely  to  the  end.  The  storms  were  all  over, 
the  doubts  all  conquered ;  and  with  the  reins  of  his 
imagination  held  even  more  loosely  than  those  in  his 
hand,  he  became  oblivious  to  surrounding  circumstances, 
and  to  present  dangers,  in  dwelling  on  this  blissful  pic- 
ture of  the  future. 

Anon  his  mind  reverted  to  the  incidents  of  the  past 
twent3'-four  hours.  How  opportune  had  been  his  arrival ! 
Was  it  the  hand  of  destiny  that  had  guided  his  footsteps, 
bringing  him  to  Belle vie\v  just  at  the  time  when  he  could 
be  of  most  service  to  its  inmates  ;  and  to  her  rescue  just 
at  the  moment  of  great  danger?  If  so,  destiny  was  in- 
deed kind,  for  it  could  not  possibly  have  conferred  a 
greater  favor.  And  how  beautiful  she  had  grown  during 
those  3^ears  of  separation — that  is,  if  her  old  loveliness 
could  have  been  improved.  How  gentle  and  womanly, 
yet  how  brave  and  courageous.  How  tender  and  loving, 
yet  how  true  to  duty  and  steadfast  to  principles.  Im- 
prove? AYhy,  she  had  always  been  perfect,  and  how 
could  perfection  improve?  Yes,  she  had  always  been 
purer,  nobler,  more  self-sacrificing  than  even  his  loA'er's 
imagination  could  conceive.  How  could  he  ever  have 
doubted  her?  Where  could  he  recall  the  least  word, 
look,  or  sign,  which  would  have  justified  a  shadow  of 
a  doubt?  He  was  the  one  who  had  been  hasty,  un- 
reasonable, and  destitute  of  faith,  and  utterly  unworthy 
of  the  great  blessing  of  her  love. 

Then  his  mind  wandered  still  farther  back — back 
across  the  gulf  of  separation — back  past  tliat  last  night 
pf  misery  in  Somerville — back  past  the  boat  ride  po  tllQ 


BELLEVIEW.  301 

pond,  whose  bliss  had  been  so  rudely  interrupted  l)y 
Arthur  Slaton's  hateful  "Boat  ahoy" — back  past  the 
first  evening  at  Belleview — back  to  the  afternoon  of  his 
arrival  in  Somerville,  when  he  caught  the  first  glance 
from  those  eyes  which  had  enchained  his  heart  forever. 
It  was  a  delightful  employment  this  bright  morning, 
dreaming  sweet  day  dreams  about  the  woman  he  loved. 

"  Halt !  Surrender  !  "  He  awoke  to  find  himself  sur- 
rounded by  armed  men,  one  of  whom  had  already  seized 
his  bridle-rein.  Instinctively  his  hand  sought  the  handle 
of  his  revolver,  but  the  threatening  muzzles  of  their 
guns  in  close  proximity  to  his  face,  warned  him  that  to 
attempt  to  draAV  it  would  be  the  signal  for  his  death. 

"  What  does  this  mean?  "  he  demanded,  as  soon  as  he 
had  recovered  from  the  surprise. 

"  It  means,  Mister  Yank,  that  you're  kotched." 

"Are  you  Confederate  soldiers?" 

"  I  reckon  that's  'bout  the  size  on  it." 

"  I  surrender,  then." 

"You  will,  eh?  We'd  like  to  see  you  do  anything 
else." 

From  the  first,  there  was  a  menace  in  their  voices  and 
looks  that  boded  no  good  to  the  prisoner,  but  he  thought 
nothing  of  it.  He  felt  assured  that  the  influence  of  his 
friends  at  Belleview  and  in  Somerville  would  save  him 
from  Andersonville,  and  secure  his  patrol  until  exchanged, 
or  the  war  was  over — a  prospect  by  no  means  displeas- 
ing in  all  its  features. 

"  AVell,  are  you  going  to  hand  out  that  pistol,  or  not?" 
demanded  Captain  Barnes,  riding  out  into  the  road  in 
front — the  others  were  dismounted. 

"  Certainly — here  it  is." 

"  See  if  there  is  any  other  weepin  about  him,  boys." 

Wyndship's  face  flushed  as  the  rude  hands  quickly 
searched  his  person  ;  but  he  kept  control  of  to  temper, 
and  offered  no  resistance. 

"  Now  dismount." 

This  command  was  also  complied  with  promptly. 

"  Boys,  we'll  go  down  to  that  old  church  down  there 
Ly  the  side  of  the  road  and  finish  up  this  job.  Give  me 
the  reins  of  his  horse  ;  and,  Jim,  you  and  Bill  take 
charge  of  the  prisoner.  Kill  him  if  he  tries  to  run. 
Peeler,  you  and  Smith  go  back  and  get  the  horses,  and 
brmg  the  honorable  Bluffy  alono*," 


302  WYNDSHIP'S    CAPTURE    AND    TRIAL. 

The  two  addressed  as  Jim  and  Bill  seized  the  captured 
man  by  each  arm. 

"This  is  unnecessary,"  said  Wyndship,  indignantly. 
"  I  have  no  desire  or  intention  of  running." 

"  You'd  better  not  try  it,"  replied  Jim,  exhibiting  a 
cocked  pistol  in  his  disengaged  hand.-  "I  only  wish 
you  would  try  it." 

For  an  instant  the  desire  to  free  himself  from  their 
touch  almost  precipitated  a  struggle,  ])ut  cooler  thoughts 
told  the  prisoner  that  such  an  attempt  would  not  only  be 
useless,  but  very  impolitic  ;  so,  submitting  with  the  best 
grace  he  could,  he  walked  on  between  his  two  guards. 
The  church  referred  to  was  a  house  built  of  pine  logs  for 
the  use  of  the  slaves  on  the  neighboring  plantations. 
Wyndship  remembered  having  gone  here  once,  with 
Charley  Hurst,  to  witness  a  negro  service.  Now  he  was 
being  taken  there  a  prisoner  ;  "  For  what  purpose?"  he 
vaguely  asked  himself.  In  the  grove  in  front  of  this 
rude  edifice,  they  halted. 

"  We'll  wait  until  the  boys  come  with  the  horses  and 
the  other  prisoner,  before  beginning  the  trial,"  said 
Barnes. 

*'  AVhat  trial?"  demanded  Wyndship,  in  surprise. 

"  You'll  find  out  soon  enough  for  your  good." 

"  This  is  strange  treatment  for  a  prisoner  of  war !" 

"  Oh,  shet  up — close  yer  jaw,"  interposed  Jim. 

There  was  a  look  about  the  men  that  the  prisoner  did 
not  like.  An  angry  threat  was  expressed  by  their 
abrupt  manners,  and  sullen,  lowering  faces  that  sent  a 
thrill  of  apprehension  through  his  breast.  Then,  too, 
a  closer  inspection  of  their  accoutrements  and  appear- 
ances led  him  to  suspect  that  they  were  guerrillas.  He 
had  heard  enough  of  the  summary  method  the  latter  hnd 
of  disposing  of  their  prisoners,  to  make  him  regard  liis 
present  condition  as  not,  in  any  wise,  an  enviable  one. 
Still,  he  thought,  when  he  explained  everything  to  them, 
that  they  would  not  dare  to  do  him  bodily  harm. 

They  did  not  have  long  to  wait  before  they  were 
joined  by  the  other  two,  leading  the  horses.  With  them 
came  two  more,  guarding  anotiier  prisoner,  whom 
Wyndship  recognized  as  the  fellow  he  had  knocked 
down  the  evening  before.  Wondering  and  alarmed,  he 
watched  them  secure  their  horses  to  the  trees,  and,  all 
but  one,  gather  in  a  semicircle  around  him,     This  one 


BELLE  VIEW.  303 

took  up  his  position  on  the  roadside,  where  he  could 
watch  both  ways  against  any  surprise  by  Federals. 
What  could  all  this  mean  ?  Would  this  party  of  six 
men,  with  only  one  commissioned  officer  amongst  them, 
i:»roceed  to  try  him  as  a  spy,  in  violation  of  all  war  regu- 
lations? And,  should  their  verdict  be  guilt}^,  would 
they  put  their  own  sentence  into  execution?  Would 
they  dare  to  assume  so  great  a  responsibility,  or  were 
they  only  in  jest — only  going  through  a  form  for  their 
own  amusement,  and  a  little  revenge,  by  playing  on  his 
fears?  If  the  latter  was  the  case,  they  were  mistaken 
in  their  man.  They  could  not  frighten  him  by  such 
devices. 

"Well,  boys,  let's  git  through  with  this  job  as  quick 
as  possible,"  said  Barnes,  stepping  within  the  semi- 
circle, and  facing  the  prisoner.  His  five  followers  were 
to  be  the  jury,  but  he  apparently  intended  to  assume  the 
duties  of  both  judge  and  prosecutor.  "  I  don't  admire 
to  this  kind  of  business,  no  how." 

"  There  is  a  quick  way  of  finishing  it  up,"  remarked 
Jim,  suggestively. 

"  No,  he  shall  have  as  fair  a  trial  as  we  can  give 
him.  It  mus'n't  be  said  that  Barnes's  men  didn't  do  the 
square  thing." 

"  A  trial?     For  what?  "  demanded  Wyndship. 

"As  a  spy,  and  for  plotting  against  the  life  of  a 
peaceful  citizen." 

"  You  must  be  jesting." 

"  You'll  find  out  d d  quick  whether  we're  jistin' 

or  not,"  said  Jim,  vindictively. 

"  This  proceeding  is  outrageous,"  continued  Wynd- 
ship warmly,  addressing  Barnes,  and  ignoring  the  last 
speaker.  ' '  Before  you  proceed  any  farther  with  this 
farce,  tell  me  one  thing:  Are  you  bushwhackers,  or 
not?" 

"No,  by we  are  not — we  are  reg'lar  Confed'rate 

soldiers." 

' '  You  should  know  better  then  how  to  treat  a  prisoner 
of  war." 

"  We  know  well  enough  how  to  treat  your  sort,"  said 
Jim. 

Still  not  noticing  the  interruption,  Wyndship  contin- 
ued :  "  You  seem  to  be  in  command  of  this  party,  and 
I  claim  at  your  hands  that   protection  accorded  by  the 


304         WYNDSHIP'S  CAPTURE  AND  TRIAL. 

rules  of  civilized  warfare  to  prisoners  of  war.  You  can- 
not deny  me  this  if  you  have  any  respect  for  the 
uniform  you  wear,  or  for  the  Hag  under  which  you  fight." 

"  When  you  prove  yourself  entitled  to  that  kind  of 
treatment,  you  will  be  sure  to  get  it." 

"  That  will  be  easy  to  do.  Go  with  me  back  to  Som- 
erville,  or  to  Colonel  Gachet's  home,  and  I  will  soon  sat- 
isfy you  on  that  point." 

"  We've  got  evidence  closer  at  hand  than  that,"  again 
interrupted  Jim. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Barnes,  addressing  his  admonition  to 
both  AYyndship  and  the  last  speaker,  "  Hold  on — let  me 
talk  awhile." 

''  I'd  like  for  him  to  tell  us  how  much  he,  or  any  of 
Sherman's  army  knows  'bout  civilized  warfare  ?"  sneered 
the  irrepressible  Jim. 

Barnes  frowned,  and  again  called  for  silence.  "  What 
is  3^our  name?"  he  demanded. 

"Wyndship — Major  Wjmdship,  of  the  Union  army, 
and  attached  to  General  Howard's  staff." 

"  If  you're  an  oflicer  in  the  Union  army,  why  haven't 
you  got  the  uniform  on  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  he  replied  promptly,  throwing  open  his  wa- 
terproof overcoat. 

"  If  you  belong  to  Howard's  staff,  what  are  j^ou  do- 
ing here  alone  ?  " 

*' I  am  on  a  leave  of  absence,  and  came  here  to  see 
the  family  of  Colonel  Gachet.  My  business  was  to  de- 
liver a  package  entrusted  to  me  by  his  son,  a  Confeder- 
ate officer,  who  was  mortally  wounded  at  Gett3^sburg. 
Having  done  this,  I  was  on  my  way  to  rejoin  my  com- 
mand when  3'ou  captured  me." 

Wyndship  did  not  add  that  it  was  his  intention  to 
quit  the  Union  service.  To  have  done  so,  bethought, 
might  have  the  appearance  of  a  subterfuge  on  his  part, 
for  the  purpose  of  conciliating  their  ill-will,  and  he  did 
not  wish  to  bear  even  the  semblance  of  hypocris}^  Con- 
scious of  his  own  innocence,  he  could  not  fully  appreci- 
ate the  peril  of  his  position,  and  had  little  fear  of  the 
result.  In  fact,  his  open,  self-respecting  manner,  and 
straightforward  words  were  having  their  effect  on 
Barnes,  who  hesitated  before  asking  another  question. 

''  How  are  we  to  know  that  this  tale  you're  telling 
us  is  true  or  not  ?  " 


*'  By  inquiry  of  Colonel  Gacliet,  who  lives  only  a 
mile  or  two  back  on  the  road  to  Somerville,  and  who 
everybody  knows  to  be  the  strongest  kind  of  a  Southern 
man.  Or  if  you  prefer  it,  take  me  to  Colonel  Harris, 
who  commands  a  regiment  of  Confederate  cavalry  that 
is  now  in  the  vicinity  of  Somerville,  or  a  short  dis- 
tance bej^ond.  He  knew  me  before  the  war,  and  I  be- 
lieve will  vouch  for  the  truth  of  what  I  am  telling  you. 
Then  there  is  Doctor  Hurst  and  Squire  Martin,  both  old 
citizens  of  this  neighborhood,  who  are  well  acquainted 
with  me,  and  with  my  character." 

Again  Barnes  hesitated.  Face  to  face  with  his  pris- 
oner, the  ardent  desire  for  revenge  that  he  felt  an  hour 
or  two  before  was  rapidl}^  cooling.  Barnes  was  no  cow- 
ard, but  there  was  more  responsibility  in  this  thing  of 
trying  and  executing  a  prisoner  as  a  sp}^,  than  he  had  at 
first  supposed,  and  he  was  just  beginning  to  debate  in 
his  own  mind  the  advisability  of  turning  the  whole  mat- 
ter over  to  Colonel  Harris,  as  the  nearest  superior  offi- 
cer, when  unfortunately  Wyndship  changed  the  current 
of  his  thoughts,  bj^  demanding  : 

"  On  what  evidence  do  you  make  so  abominable  a 
charge  ?  " 

"  On  the  testimony  of  one  of  your  own  men,  who  you 
shall  hear  for  j^ourself.  Bluffy,  step  forward  there,  and 
tell  your  tale." 

In  obedience  to  this  order,  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Bum- 
mers repeated  his  story,  only,  profiting  by  the  additional 
hour  or  two  he  had  had  for  consideration,  this  time  he 
painted  his  pretended  confession  in  brighter  colors  than 
before.  Of  course,  this  caused  a  discrepancy  between 
the  two  narratives,  but  apparently  Barnes  nor  either  of 
his  men  were  laAvyers  enough  to  notice  it,  or  if  they 
were,  not  impartial  enough  to  consider  it  in  the  prison- 
er's favor.  Wyndship  listened  in  silence,  first  with  sur- 
prise and  indignation,  but  as  the  whole  diabolical  lie  for 
his  destruction  unfolded  itself,  this  gave  way  to  horror 
and  dismay.  He  thought  at  once  that  it  was  a  scheme 
for  revenge  against  himself ;  but  what  surprised  him 
most,  was  that  a  drunken,  stupid  fellow,  like  Blufkins 
appeared  to  be,  could  concoct  a  plan  as  cunning,  and  a 
tale  as  plausible,  as  this.  These  emotions  kept  him  si- 
lent when  it  was  finished,  and  this  silence  was  also  ac- 
cepted as  evidence  of  guilt  by  the  angry  rebels. 


306 

"AYe  killed  one  of  this  fellow's  men,  find  captured  him 
and  two  others  last  night,  before  they  could  carry  out 
your  damnable  orders,"  said  Barnes.  "  Mr.  Slaton,  the 
man  you  sent  them  to  kill,  is  my  uncle  by  marriage. 
By  a  fortunate  accident  yesterday,  I  found  out  where  he 
lived,  and  as  it  was  on  my  route,  I  moved  my  company 
there  just  in  time  to  frustrate  your  plan." 

Like  any  other  innocent  man  who  is  suddenly  con- 
fronted with  an  unjust  and  unexpected  accusation, 
Wyndship  had  nothing  to  offer  in  refutation  but  general 
and  vehement  denials,  and  these  had  little  effect  on  his 
judges.  A  part  of  the  six,  judging  by  their  ill-suppressed 
oaths  and  comments,  had  already  decided  on  a  verdict, 
and  were  growing  impatient  with  the  delay ;  in  fact, 
from  the  first,  Jim  had  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his  in- 
tention to  vote  "  guilty." 

"If  you've  got  anything  to  say,  or  any  proof  to 
bring  up,  you'd  better  be  at  it,"  said  Barnes  again. 
"  My  men  here  won't  pay  much  attention  to  simple  de- 
nials. Calling  your  partner  over  there  a  liar,  won't  con- 
vince them  of  your  innocence." 

The  prisoner  realized  this,  and  also  that  the  prejudices 
of  his  judges  were  all  against  him,  still  he  did  not  pro- 
pose to  give  up  without  making  a  fight  for  his  life. 

"  You  say  you  captured  two  others — do  they  corrob- 
orate this  fellow's  tale?" 

''  I  didn't  question  them,"  the  Captain  admitted, 
rather  reluctantly. 

'*  It  seems  to  me  that  you  should  have  done  so — it  is 
not  customary  to  convict  an  accused  on  one  witness'  tes- 
timony alone." 

Barnes  saw  and  acknowledged  to  himself  the  justness 
of  this  objection,  and  again  hesitated.  He  really 
wished  to  give  his  prisoner  a  fair  trial — "  to  do  the 
squar'  thing  by  him,"  as  he  expressed  it — that  is,  as  near 
so  as  his  followers  Avould  alloT\^,  for  the  majority  of  his 
company  sometimes  overruled  his  authority. 

"  That  can  be  done  yet,  I  suppose?" 

A  murmur  of  dissatisfaction  arose  from  two  or  three, 
but  seeing  his  chance,  and  determined  to  use  it  if  pos- 
sible, Wyndship  continued : 

"  I  insist  that  j^ou  do  so — I  demand  that  j^ou  examine 
them  in  my  presence,  separate  and  apart  from  their 
leader.     Besides  this,  I  demand  that  you  also  take  the 


liKLLEVlEW.  307 

evidence  of  certain  parties,  citizens  of  this  neighbor- 
hood, before  j^ou  pass  sentence." 

The  murmur  of  dissent  grew  louder.  "What  can 
they  know  about  it?"  demanded  Jim,  disregarding  his 
Captain's  motion  for  silence. 

"  They  know  me — know  of  my  character  in  the  past, 
and  it  is  nothing  but  justice  that  you  hear  what  they  have 
to  say." 

"  This  ain't  no  court  o'  law,  that  we  should  go  huntin' 
up  a  man's  past  carrackter,"  suggested  the  one  called 
Peeler. 

Barnes  felt  that  he  was  losing  control,  and  called  an- 
grily for  silence  on  the  part  of  his  men. 

Not  in  the  least  daunted  by  the  vindictive  spirit  that 
two  of  his  judges  were  exhibiting,  Wyndship  pressed 
the  advantage  that  he  felt  he  was  gaining.  "  Did  that 
scoundrel  there  tell  you  how  he  got  that  wound  on  his 
head?  That  it  was  caused  by  a  blow  from  my  pistol 
only  yesterday  afternoon,  for  molesting  a  Southern  lady  ? 
Did  he  tell  you  that  I  drove  him  and  his  gang  out  of 
Colonel  Gachet's  yard  when  they  were  trying  to  disarm, 
and  probably  to  kill,  the  old  man  for  defending  his  home  ? 
has  he  told  you  all  this  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Well,  it  is  all  true,  and  can  be  easily  proven  by 
Colonel  Gachet,  and  by — "  he  started  to  say  "  by  Cap- 
tain Slaton,  of  the  Confederate  army,"  but  something- 
like  instinct  caused  him  to  substitute — "  the  other  mem- 
bers of  his  family.  This  fellow's  tale  is  all  false,  con- 
cocted for  the  purpose  of  revenging  himself  on  me  for 
the  knocking  down  I  gave  him.  He  has  never  been  un- 
der my  command ;  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  his  pres- 
ence in  this  neighborhood,  and  never  laid  e3^es  on  him 
before  late  yesterday  afternoon.  I  know  nothing  about 
any  plan  to  capture  Andersonville,  and  did  not  send  him 
to  Mr.  Slaton's  on  any  errand  whatever ;  in  fact,  I  am 
now  on  a  '  leave  of  absence,'  as  this  paper  will  prove. 
All  this  I  can  prove  if  you  will  only  give  me  a  chance ; 
only  take  me  back  to  Belle  view  or  to  Somerville." 

Wyndship  was  gaining  ground.  The  scouts  had  be- 
come interested  listeners,  even  Jim  and  Peeler  having 
subsided  into  silence.  His  manner  was  so  earnest  and 
straightforward  as  to  enforce  doubt,  if  not  conviction, 
on  a  part  of  his  hearers,  and  it  looked  as  if  his  chances 


308         WYNDSUIP  S  CAPTURE  AND  TRIAL. 

were  brightening.  Blufkins  was  sharp  enough  to  see  all 
this,  and  moreover,  to  realize  what  would  be  the  result 
to  himself  should  his  victim  escape,  and  grew  desperate. , 
What  if  he  should  succeed  in  discrediting  his  story? 
Should  succeed  in  prevailing  on  the  rebels  to  suspend 
judgment  until  the  matter  could  be  more  thoroughly  in- 
vestigated? Then,  not  only  would  he  lose  his  revenge, 
but  his  own  life  would  likely  pay  the  forfeit.  Something 
must  be  done,  and  done  quickly,  to  counteract  this  fa- 
vorable impression,  for  his  own  safety  now  depended  on 
W3mdship's  conviction. 

"  He  lies  !  "  he  blurted  out  recklessly.  *'  He  lies  !  I 
tell  you  !  His  tale  is  all  a  lie.  It  was — it  was  not  for 
that,  that  he  struck  me — he  struck  me  because" — a  pause 
— * '  he  struck  me  because — because  I — I  would  not  shoot 
down  an  inoffensive  old  farmer,  in  obedience  to  his  or- 
ders. In  the  name  of  God,  gentlemen,  I'm  telling  you 
the  truth — the  whole  truth.  He  wanted  me  to  shoot 
down  an  old  man  for  nothing  in  the  world  but  for  inter- 
fering when  he  was — when  he  was  trying  to  kiss  his 
daughter."  Blufkins  had  to  think  all  this  up  while 
speaking,  and  consequently,  his  sentences  were  broken, 
and  his  speech  was  hesitating.  "  I  could  tell  you  about 
many  other  mean  things  he  done — worse  than  that.  He's 
got  a  glib  tongue,  gentlemen,  and  will  try  to  make  you 
believe  in  his  innocence,  but  don't  you  listen — I'm  telling 
you  the  truth." 

When  he  heard  the  words  "  he  lies,"  Wyndship  raised 
his  arm  and  stepped  forward  to  strike  his  traducer,  but 
the  rebels  interfered  to  stop  him.  Behind  their  protec- 
tion, the  accuser  continued  to  utter  his  defamations, 
growing  bolder  in  his  utterances  as  he  saw  the  helpless- 
ness of  his  victim.  Two  strong  feelings,  the  desire  for 
revenge,  and  for  self-preservation,  were  urging  him  on. 
To  a  fair,  unprejudiced  jury,  the  animus  that  prompted 
him  would  have  been  plain  enough  ;  but  unfortunately, 
the  Scouts  were  not  impartial.  They  were  partisans  try- 
ing an  enemy,  and  Peeler  expressed  the  thoughts  of  the 
majority  when  he  remarked,  sententiously  : 

"  When  the  raskels  fall  out,  we  fin'  out  some  o'  their 
devilment." 

Wyndship  could  only  Insist  on  his  innocence,  and  pro- 
test  against   the   irregular  proceedings ;  denouncing  in 


r.KLI-KVIEW.  309 

strong  language,  their  unfairness  in  not  waiting  until  the 
evidence  of  his  friends  could  be  obtained. 

"  Let's  git  through  with  this  job,"  interrupted  Jim. 
"  "We  can't  stay  here  all  the  week." 

''Peeler,  examine  the  prisoner's  saddle-roll  and  pock- 
ets, and  see  if  they  contain  any  Confederate  or  citizens' 
clothing,"  commanded  Barnes. 

This  was  speedily  done,  and  the  civilian's  coat,  which, 
by  the  advice  of  others,  Wyndship  had  reluctantly 
brought  along,  was  pulled  out  and  displa^^ed. 

"This  looks  kind  er  'robberativ' — don't  it?"  said 
Peeler,  holding  up  the  garment  so  all  could  see. 

Our  hero  had  lost  his  momentary  advantage.  The  tide 
now  set  dead  against  him,  and  he  soon  saw  the  futility 
of  his  efforts  to  stem  it.  To  Barnes's  question,  as  to 
what  he  had  to  say  in  his  own  behalf,  he  could  only  re- 
peat his  former  demand,  and  he  had  too  much  pride,  and 
felt  too  much  resentment  at  his  captors'  injustice,  to 
plead  for  his  life  at  their  hands.  Probably  he  still  be- 
lieved that  they  would  not  dare  to  carry  their  threats 
into  execution,  as  their  leader  had  already  shown  signs 
of  weakening.     Not  so,  however,  with  Jim. 

"  I  think  that  we've  spent  time  enough  at  this  fool- 
ishness," he  said.  "  He's  had  a  heap  longer  time  to  de- 
fend himself  in,  and  a  much  fairer  trial  than  the  Yan- 
kees gave  my  gray-headed  old  father  in  Tennessee,  when 
they  shot  him  down  on  his  own  door-step.  Let's  get 
through  with  this  business." 

"  Yes,  we've  gin  him  lots  more' time  than  his  d d 

sort  giv'  my  wife  an'  children  to  get  out  of  their  house, 
when  they  burnt  it  down  in  the  dead  of  winter,"  said 
the  one  called  Bill.     "  I'm  for  the  verdic'." 

"  Let's  have  the  verdict,"  repeated  Jim. 

"Pm  sorry,"  resumed  Barnes,  waving  his  hand  for  si- 
lence, "that  you  can't  bring  up  any  evidence  to  clear 
you  from  these  serious  charges." 

"I  could,"  interrupted  Wyndship  hotly,  "if  you 
would  give  me  a  chance." 

"  Chance  enough  ;  now  for  the  verdict,"  cried  Jim. 

Barnes  looked  intensely  uncomfortable.  He  did  not 
relish  his  present  position,  and  longed  for  a  chance  to 
shift  his  responsibility  on  to  other  shoulders.  His  pris- 
oner insisted  on  looking  to  him  as  the  accountable  per- 
son ;  and,  having  strong  doubts  of  his  guilt,  this  per- 


olO  WYNDSHIP^S   CAPTURE   AND   TRIAL. 

sistence  was  extremely  unpleasant.  Neither  did  he  care 
to  take  issue  with  his  followers,  or  to  place  too  great  a 
strain  on  his  authority.  To  release  himself  from  this 
predicament  he  was  guilty  of  the  most  cowardly  act, 
probably,  that  he  ever  committed  in  his  life,  by  leaving 
them  to  determine  by  a  majority  vote  what  should  be 
Wyndship's  fate.  Before  doing  so,  however,  he  made 
one  feeble  effort  to  delay  proceedings.  "  I  think,  boys, 
that  we  ought  not  to  act  too  hasty  in  this  matter. 
Maybe  we'd  better  wait,  examine  the  other  prisoners, 
and  investigate  some  more  before  passing  sentence. 
Besides,  the  other  boys  might  think  that  they  ought  to 
be  consulted." 

"  The  boys  will  approve  of  what  we  do ;  and  as  for 
being  too  hasty,  it  seems  to  me  we  are  wasting  a  lot  of 
precious  time  here  when  there  is  no  necessity  for  it. 
You  know  that  General  Wheeler  is  expecting  us  to  re- 
port to  him  at ,  to-night.  If  you  wanted  to  ex- 
amine the  other  two  bummers,  and  have  all  the  company 
take  a  hand  in  the  trial,  j^ou  ought  to  have  sent  for  them 
before  beginning."  It  was  very  evident  that  Jim  did 
not  wish  to  shirk  any  responsibility  himself. 

*'  Very  well — settle  this  matter  between  you  five  ;  I'll 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  it." 

"All  right — I'm  ready  to  give  my  vote  now — it  is 
guilty,  and  death.  The  blood  of  my  old  father  calls 
for  it." 

* '  We  are  not  trying  him  for  the  murder  of  your 
father,"  reprimanded  the  Captain,  before  turning  away. 

"I  am,"  was  the  grim  reply.  "I've  long  ago  tried 
and  sentenced  the  whole  Yankee  nation,  and  propose  to 
punish  as  I  get  a  chance.     AYhat  says  you,  BUI?" 

"Them's  my  sentiments." 

Taking  this  for  an  affirmative  vote,  Jim  turned  to  the 
next. 

"What  say  you.  Smith?" 

*'I — I  don't  know.  I  expect  we'd  better  turn  the 
whole  batch  over  to  the  Gin'ral." 

"  Oh,  hell !     What  say  you,  Sam  ?  " 

"  I  say  wait  until  we  find  out  more  about  it — 'till  we 
can  question  the  other  prisoners,  at  least." 

Four  had  voted,  two  for  death,  and  two  against,  and 
now  all  eyes  turned  to  the  thit'd. 

"  What  say  you^  Peeler?  " 


BELLE  VIEW.  311 

The  man  turned  slowly  from  inspecting  the  prisoner's 
horse  and  trappings,  and  came  leisurely  forwnrd, 
casting  his  eyes  up  into  the  trees  over-head  as  he  did 
so.  It  was  an  anxious  moment  for  Wyndship,  as  the 
thought  flashed  through  his  mind  that  his  fate,  his  life, 
all  his  sweet  hopes  and  blissful  anticipations,  rested 
on  that  man's  answer  alone.  For  the  first  time 
since  his  capture  his  breathing  came  quick  and  fast, 
Avhile  the  moisture  of  suspense  gathered  on  his 
brow.  It  was  an  anxious  moment  for  Blufkins  also,  as 
he  waited  for  the  answer  with  even  more  perturbation 
than  his  victim.  Apparently  satisfied  with  his  inspec- 
tion of  the  trees.  Peeler  gave  his  verdict  as  coolly  as  if  it 
only  affected  the  life  of  some  worthless  cur. 

"  1  say  "—he  stopped  to  squeeze  the  wad  of  tobacco 
between  his  jaws  a  time  or  two,  and  then  to  eject  a 
quantity  of  its  juice.  *'  I  say — let's  hang  'em  both, 
then  we'll  be  cert'in  to  git  the  right  one." 

Wyndship  fell  back  as  if  struck.  *'  Was  it  possible," 
he  thought,  "  that  any  one  could  pass  the  sentence  of 
death  on  a  human  creature  so  unfeelingly,  and  with  so 
mucli  indifference  ?  " 

"  This  is  horrible  !  "  he  cried.  "  Hang  a  man  on  such 
evidence,  and  with  such  a  trial  as  this?" 

"  Stronger  evidence  and  fairer  trial  than  my  father 
got.  Three  for  death  and  two  against — that  settles  it, 
I  reckon.  We've  had  talk  enough — now  for  action. 
What's  the  way,  boj^s,  hanging  or  shooting?  " 

Even  then,  after  the  sentence  of  death  had  been  pro- 
nounced against  him,  and  while  his  judges  were  consid- 
ering the  mode  of  execution,  it  was  hard  for  him  to 
realize  that  it  was  not  all  a  mockery.  Before  the  five 
]iad  come  to  any  decision,  he  demanded  another  inter- 
view with  their  Captain,  who  had  wandered  off  up  the 
road. 

"What  do  3^ou  want  with  him?"  queried  Jim,  who 
had  now  assumed  the  leadership. 

"  I  shall  demand  of  him  protection — to  stop  this  out- 
rage." 

"  It's  no  use,"  was  the  answer.  "  He  left  the  busi- 
ness to  us,  and  he  dar'sen't  go  back  on  his  word." 

W^mdship  insisted,  however,  and  his  demand  was 
complied  with.  Barnes  approached  reluctantly,  with  his 
eyes  on  the  ground,  the  sky,  the  trees,  on  any  object 


Sl2  WYNDSHIP'S    CArXURE   AND   TRIAL. 

except  the  face  of  the  condemned  man.  He  listened  to 
Wyndship's  appeal  in  silence,  every  featnre  and  every 
motion  showing  his  great  discomfort.  But  Jim  was 
right — he  either  would  not,  or  dared  not,  interfere. 
Discouraged  and  disgusted,  the  prisoner  at  length  mod- 
erated his  demand  to  the  granting  of  two  favors. 

"  What  are  they?"  he  asked  uneasil}^ 

"First;  that  I  be  shot — not  hung.  I  wish  to  die  a 
soldier's  death — a  death  that  I  have  often  faced  before, 
and  as  bravely  as  any  man." 

"  That  wish  shall  be  granted,  sir — I  shall  insist  on  it 
with  the  boys." 

"  Next ;  that  I  be  allowed  time  to  prepare  for  death— 
to  write  my  last  messages  to  my  friends — to  the  loved 
one  that  I  have  as  well  as  j'ou." 

Barnes  became  deepty  interested  with  the  dead  leaves 
that  he  slowly  stirred  with  one  foot. 

"  How  long  do  you  want?  "  he  asked. 

"  Until  four  o'clock  this  afternoon." 

"That's  too  thin,"  put  in  Jim;  "we  can't  wait;" 
while  Barnes  shook  his  head. 

"Until  three,  then?" 

Another  shake  of  the  head.     ' 

"  Two  o'clock — noon?  " 

Barnes  raised  his  eyes  far  enough  to  examine  his  silver 
watch.  "  You  ask  too  much  time — my  orders  won't  per- 
mit me  to  stay  here  that  long." 

"  How  much  will  you  give  me?" 

"  Till  ten  o'clock — well,  say  half-past  ten.  That  will 
give  you  something  over  an  hour  and  a  half." 

Without  another  word  Wyndship  bowed,  and  turning, 
seated  himself  on  the  rude  step  at  the  church  door.  He 
had  asked  for  the  delay  with  the  hope  that  some  inter- 
ference in  his  favor  might  come  from  some  quarter. 
Colonel  Harris  might  come  up  with  his  regiment ;  or 
there  might  be  some  passer-by  who  would  know  him,  and 
by  whom  he  might  send  for  assistance  ;  but  the  short 
respite  granted  made  both  chances  improbable. 

The  good  fortune  which  he  had  eulogized  so  highly 
but  a  short  hour  ago,  had  proven  a  traitor.  There  had 
been  a  time  when  death  had  but  few  terrors  ;  but  then 
he  had  nothing  to  make  life  desirable.  Now  all  was  dif- 
ferent— he  had  just  been  made  supremely  happy  by 
the  knowledge  that  he  possessed  the  love  of  the  woman 


BELLEVIEW.  3  1  3 

he  adored.  How  delightful  had  been  the  sensation — 
liow  bright  the  sun  had  shone,  how  exhilarating  had  been 
the  fresh  morning  air.  What  happy  thoughts  of  the 
present !  What  pleasant  memories  of  the  past !  What 
alluring  prospects  for  the  future !  And  now  all  had 
vanished ;  now  he  was  sentenced  to  die  the  shameful 
death  of  a  spy  and  a  conspirator.  The  hours,  aye,  the 
moments  of  his  life,  were  numbered,  and  each  throb  of 
his  heart  beat  one  second  less  of  the  grudgingly-granted 
delay.  This  was  the  end  of  all  his  hopes,  of  all  his  love 
dreams — a  lifeless  corpse  left  by  the  wayside  to  tell  its 
tale  of  horror  and  of  despair  to  the  first  passer-by  ;  and, 
in  due  time,  the  news  of  that  bloodstained  body  would 
be  carried  to  Belleview — to  Elma's  ears,  bringing  upon 
her  heart  its  heaviest  load  of  sorrow.  "  Oh,  God  !  how 
canst  Thou  permit  such  cruelty  and  injustice?  Can 
there  be  no  respite — no  chance  for  escape  ?  "  He  glanced 
around  at  the  unrelentless  men  who,  with  guns  in  their 
hands,  stood  watching  his  every  movement.  There  were 
five — no,  only  four ;  one  had  joined  his  Captain  in  the 
road.  Should  he  make  the  attempt?  There  were  fear- 
ful odds  against  success — still,  men  had  faced  as  great 
and  escaped.  He  could  try  at  least — if  they  killed  him 
it  was  only  the  loss  of  a  few  moments — of  an  hour  and  a 
half  at  best ;  and  it  would  be  a  better  death  than  the  one 
which  awaited  him.  Every  muscle  and  tendon  began  to 
tighten,  every  nerve  was  strained  to  the  highest  pitch, 
for  the  desperate  venture. 

*'  Hist,  Massa  Wyndship — keep  quiet,  fur  goodness 
sake !  " 

The  subdued  whisper  sounded  like  a  peal  of  thunder  to 
his  overstrained  senses,  and  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  did 
not  spring  from  his  seat.  Fortunately  his  guards  noticed 
or  suspected  nothing  from  his  sudden  start.  At  first  he 
was  bewildered  as  to  the  source  from  which  the  whisper 
came,  almost  believing  it  to  be  the  creation  of  his  own 
imagination  ;  but  the  brain  acts  quickly  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, and  he  remembered  the  character  of  the 
building  behind  him,  and  that  it  sounded  like  a  negro's 
voice.  Influenced  by  these  considerations,  he  let  his 
head  drop  back  to  its  former  position. 

''  It's  urnly  me,  Massa  Wyndship — Carlos — Squire 
Martin's  Carlos — don't  you  'member  me?  But  don't 
say  nuffin — Ise  hid  in  de  church  he'er,  and  he'erd  it  all." 


ol4  WYXDSniP's    CAPTURE   AND    TPtlAL, 

"Wyndship  changed  his  position  so  as  to  throw  his  face 
sideways  to  the  crack  between  the  logs.  He  then  ele- 
vated his  knee,  and  rested  his  head  on  his  hand  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  hide  his  mouth  from  those  on  the  outside. 

"  I  wants  ter  help  yer,  sir — I  does — what  kin  I  do?" 

''  Can  you  steal  out,  and  get  away  without  being  seen  ?  " 
tho  prisoner  cautiously  w^hispered  back. 

'•  I  t'inks  I  kin,  sir.  I  kin  crawl  out  de  back  winder 
and  steal  off  thru  de  bushes." 

"And  can  you  find  your  master — Dr.  Hurst,  or  some 
friend,  and  bring  them  back  here  before  half -past  ten 
o'clock  ?  " 

' '  I  specks  I  kin ;  I'se  got  ei*  horse  hi'cht  ober  in  de 
bushes  ne'er  de  odder  road.  It  hain't  but  two  mile  ter 
Colonel  Gachet's,  'n'  I  kin  git  de'er  in  er  mighty  short 
time." 

''But  Colonel  Grachet  is  sick — well,  find  some  one — 
some  friend,  and  bring  them  back  quick.  If  you  see 
Colonel  Harris,  tell  him,  maybe  he  will  come  to  my 
assistance.  But  you  must  be  careful,  or  these  men 
might  see  you  in  getting  away." 

"  Dis  nigger  knows  how  ter  save  he's  bacon.  Dey 
can't  see  fru  de  logs  er  dis  he'er  house,  'n'  I'se  gwine  ter 
crawl  lik'  er  black  snake  'til  I  gits  in  de  bushes,  'n'  den 
I'll  make  tracks  lik'  er  race  horse.  Keep  er  good  heart,' 
Massa  Wyndship,  I'll  git  somebody  he'er  pow'ful  quick." 

There  were  other  cautions  and  instructions  Wyndship 
would  like  to  have  given,  but  prolonging  the  whispering 
greatly  increased  the  chances  of  detection,  besides  con- 
suming valuable  time  ;  so,  with  another  admonition  to  be 
careful,  he  changed  back  to  his  first  position.  With 
head  resting  against  the  logs  he  listened  anxiously  for 
any  noise  that  might  betray  the  boy's  presence  within. 
Once  or  twice  there  was  a  slight  creaking  of  a  loose 
plank,  or  the  muffled  sounds  of  a  body  rubbing  against 
a  bench  or  the  floor,  but  not  distinct  enough  to  reach  the 
ears  of  the  Confederates.  After  a  little,  all  was  still. 
For  some  time  longer  he  strained  his  sense  of  hearing  to 
the  utmost,  at  the  same  time  shutting  his  eyes  for  fear 
they  might  reveal  too  much  ;  then,  assured  that  Carlos 
had  got  safely  away,  hope  revived  witiiiu  his  breast. 


tiELLEVIEW.  315 

CHAPTER  X. 

A     RIDE      FOR     HELP. 

The  experience  of  other  sections  had  impressed  upon 
the  minds  of  the  planters  and  farmers  of  Georgia  the 
necessity  of  hiding  their  horses  and  mules  on  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Federal  cavalry,  to  save  them  from  being 
carried  off  or  killed.  To  sweep  the  country  clean  of  all 
live  stock  was  a  part  of  Sherman's  policy.  What  his 
cavalry  did  not  need  must  be  shot,  in  order  to  deprive 
the  Rebels  of  their  use  ;  and,  as  far  as  lay  in  their 
power,  his  troops  faithfully  executed  this  command,  re- 
gardless of  the  fact  that  the  country  already  barely  con- 
tained stock  enough  to  make  bread  for  its  women  and 
children.  But  then,  possibly,  the  families  of  the  Con- 
federates were  not  entitled,  in  their  eyes,  or  in  those  of 
their  commander,  to  any  consideration,  save  onl}^  as 
they  furnished  the  means  of  inflicting  extra  punishment 
on  the  men  who  dared  to  oppose  them  in  battle.  Indeed, 
unlike  Grant,  Thomas  and  McClellan,  Sherman  made 
war  to  punish  as  well  as  to  subdue. 

Mr.  Martin  had  turned  all  of  his  stock  over  to  a  trusty 
servant  on  his  plantation  to  hide  in  the  swamps,  save 
one  horse,  an  old  one  that  he  considered  of  little  value, 
which  he  kept  at  his  home  place  in  Somerville.  Wish- 
ing to  send  some  message  down  to  this  negro,  he  starts 
Carlos  off  on  this  old  horse  very  early  on  the  morning  of 
Wyndship's  capture.  Now  four  years  had  not  in  the 
least  diminished  the  young  mulatto's  stock  of  gallantry  ; 
on  the  contrary,  entirely  ignoring  a  certain  experience 
of  the  past,  as  he  grew  older  his  sweethearts  had 
become,  if  possible,  more  numerous.  A  short  time 
back  he  had  exchanged  gutta-percha  finger-rings  with 
one  of  his  later  flames  as  a  token  of  endless  affection. 
But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  course  of  true  love  did  not 
run  smooth  with  Carlos  any  more  than  with  the  rest  of 
mankind  ;  and,  ere  long,  a  little  disagreement  came  be- 
tween to  mar  their  felicity.  She  demanded  a  return  of 
her  ring ;  a  demand  he  could  not  comply  with  for  the 
simple  reason  that  he  had  lost  it  while  attending  a  meet- 
ing in  this  old  church.     His  excuses  were  not  satisfac- 


316  A  RIDE   FOR   HELP. 

tory,  and,  a  rival  having  taken  np  her  cause  pretty  much 
as  the  one  did  that  night  in  the  quarter  at  Belleview,  th^ 
desirability  of  finding  it  became  very  strongly  impressed 
upon  his  mind. 

The  private,  or  neighborhood  road  leading  down  to 
Mr.  Martin's  plantation,  branched  off  from  the  main 
road  to  Harper's  Ferry,  about  half  a  mile  nearer  Somer- 
ville  ;  but  keeping  pretty  much  the  same  dh-ection  it  was 
only  a  short  distance  across,  through  the  intervening 
woods,  from  the  former  to  the  back  of  the  old  church. 
As  Carlos  was  going  on  his  errand  that  morning,  and 
had  got  about  opposite  this  point  on  his  own  road,  the^ 
thought  had  struck  him  that  it  would  be  a  good  oppor* 
tunity  to  search  for  the  missing  ring.  It  would  not  take 
very  long,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  his  master 
should  ever  know  of  the  lost  time.  So  riding  out  into 
the  timber  far  enough  to  hide  his  horse,  he  tied  him  to  a 
sapling  and  footed  it  across  through  the  brush. 

He  had  been  in  the  building  but  a  short  time  when  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  sounds  of  men's  voices 
and  the  noise  of  their  approach.  Stealing  to  the  door 
and  squatting  down  by  the  crack  between  the  logs,  he 
heard  pretty  much  all  that  passed  during  the  trial,  and 
also  saw  enough  to  recognize  Wyndship.  Carlos,  like 
all  of  his  race  in  southern  servitude,  had  a  supreme  con- 
tempt for  all  "  po'  Norfen  trash"  ;  but,  in  ante-bellum 
days,  he  had  never  assigned  the  "  Teacher"  to  that 
class,  instinctively  recognizing  the  fact  that  he  was  as 
much  of  a  gentleman  as  if  he  had  been  born  south  of 
the  Mason  and  Dixon  line,  and  "  owned  niggers."  Dur- 
ing the  latter's  residence  at  Somerville  this  respect  had 
developed  into  a  true  regard,  which  had  lived  and  kept 
as  green  in  the  mulatto's  heart  as  well  as  it  might  have 
done  in  one  whose  skin  was  white.  Consequently  his 
sympathies  were  keenly  enlisted  in  Wyndship's  behalf, 
and  he  undertook  the  task  of  bringing  assistance  with  an 
enthusiasm  that  swept  away  considerations  of  personal 
danger  to  himself.  As  soon  as  their  whispered  conversa- 
tion was  over,  he  stole  out  of  the  back  window  by  which 
he  had  entered,  and  succeeded  in  getting  safely  back  to 
his  horse  and  to  the  other  road ;  and  then,  as  well  as  the 
capabilities  of  his  master's  old  buggy  animal  would  per- 
mit, proceeded  to  carry  out  his  eager  promise  to  ' '  make 
tracks  lik'  er  race  hoss." 


BELLE  VIEW.  317 

******* 

About  two  hours  after  Wj^iidship's  departure,  3Iollie, 
finding  her  attention  uo  longer  necessary  for  her  father's 
and  mother's  comfort,  came  out  on  the  front  piazza  for  a 
breath  of  the  morning  air.  While  there  Tony  brought 
Elma's  horse  around  to  the  front,  and  soon  afterwards 
the  latter  came  down,  dressed  in  her  homespun  ridino- 
habit. 

^'  What  are  you  going  to  do?"  Mollie  asked,  in  sur- 
prise. "  Surely,  after  yesterday's  experience,  you're 
not  going  to  venture  off  somewhere  alone  ?  " 

"•  No— not  alone.  I  am  expecting  Dr.  Hurst  by  to 
act  as  my  escort,"  was  the  answer,  with  an  attempt  at 
cheerfulness. 

Mollie  was  not  deceived  by  the  attempt.  She  knew 
by  instinct  that  her  friend  was  in  trouble— that  the 
cheerfulness  was  a  miserable  effort  to  hide  heartache  ; 
and,  as  she,  too,  had  a  lover  far  away  in  danger,  she 
could  sympathize  with  the  other's  sorrow. 

^'Are  you  going  into  Somerville?  "  she  asked,  suppos- 
nig  that  Elma  had  some  messages  from  Wyndship  to  de- 
liver to  his  friends,  the  Martins. 

''No.  I  am  going  back  to  Mrs.  Hall's  with  the  Doc- 
tor." 

''  Colonel  Harris  will  probably  call  by  to  see  you  this 
morning,  and  I  think  you  ought  to  stay  at  home  to  meet 
him." 

''  If  he  does,  tell  him  to  come  on  to  Mrs.  Hall's.  I 
know  he  will  want  to  see  his  wounded  boy  soldier." 

''  If  a  certain  Yankee  Major  knew  how  devoted  you 
were  to  Johnnie,"  said  Mollie,  with  a  meaning  smile,  ''  I 
wonder  if  he  would  not  be  terribly  jealous." 

But  Elma  did  not  return  the  smile. 

"I  do  not  think  he  would,"  she  answered,  simply. 
She  felt  that  after  their  late  parting  no  feelings  of  jeal- 
ousy could  ever  exist  on  either  side— surely  he  would 
never  -again  doubt  her  love  and  faithfulness.  "  The 
Doctor  is  later  than  I  expected,"  she  added,  glancing 
anxiously  down  the  avenue. 

Just  then  she  saw  a  negro  boy  on  horseback  come 
rapidly  along  the  eastern  road.  She  watched  him  indif- 
ferently until  he  reached  and  turned  through  the  avenue 
gate,  uging  his  horse  on  at  every  jump  ;  then  her  atten- 


Sis  A  RIDE   FOR   HELP. 

tion  was  shai^ply  attracted,  and  her  face  t;irned  deadly 
pale.  The  boy  had  come  from  the  direction  Wyndship 
had  gone,  and  this  thought  was  enough  to  excite  her  fear 
of  evil  tidings.  Darting  down  the  steps  and  along  the 
walk,  she  reached  the  little  gate  just  as  Carlos  reined  up 
his  panting  horse. 

"Oh!  Miss  Elma,"  he  cried,  "  dey's  kotched  'im, 
an's  gwine  to  kill  'im." 

She  reeled  from  side  to  side,  clinging  to  the  gate-post 
for  support.  Her  white  lips  opened  and  moved,  but 
gave  forth  no  sound. 

"  Dey's  gwine  to  kill  'im,"  repeattd  the  boy,  too  much 
excited  to  be  coherent.     "  He's  got  but  an  hour  to  live  !" 

Again  the  quivering  lips  refused  to  speak. 

"Who  are  you  talking  about,  Carlos?"  demanded 
Mollie,  who  had  followed  her  friend.  "  Who  is  going  to 
be  killed,  and  by  whom?  " 

"  Massa  Wyndship,  ma'am.  Some  Suthun  sogers  hes 
kotched  him." 

"  They  won't  dare  to  kill  him." 

"  Yes'm  ;  dey's  done  'demned  'im  to  de'f,  'n'  he's  got 
but  one  hour  to  live." 

In  answer  to  Mollie's  questions  Carlos  told  his  news 
plain  enough  to  be  understood.  While  all  this  was  go- 
ing on  Elma  did  not  utter  a  word,  and  seemed  incapable 
of  standing  but  for  the  gate-post  and  her  friend's  sup- 
porting arm.  The  working  mouth  and  wide-open,  horri- 
fied eyes  showed  the  agony  which  paralyzed  her  senses. 

"  You  say  he  has  to  half-past  ten  to  live?"  asked 
Mollie,  eagerly,  when  the  boy  came  to  the  latter  part  of 
his  tale. 

"  Yes'm,  I  hyerd  dem  promis'  'im  dat  myse'f." 

"  Then  there  is  a  chance  to  save  him,"  she  cried,  ex- 
citedly. ' '  Do  you  hear,  Elma  ?  We  have  over  an  hour 
in  which  to  send  friends  to  his  rescue.  Oh  !  if  papa  was 
only  well." 

Elma  heard — caught  the  straw  of  hope,  and  rallied 
instantly. 

"  I  must  save  him,"  she  cried.  "I  must  go — I  nill 
go  ;  and  if  they  kill  him  they  must  also  kill  mc."  The 
palsied  tongue  had  recovered  its  function,  and  the  ej^es 
lit  up  with  the  resolution  to  save  her  lover,  or  to  die  in 
his  company.  She  started  through  the  gate,  when  Mol- 
lie caught  the  folds  of  her  habit. 


BELLEVIEW.  319 

^'AYliere  are  you  going? — stop,  Elma — yoii  must  not 
go  among  those  reckless,  cruel  men  alone  and  unpro- 
tected. Send  for  Colonel  Harris — he  is  not  far  beyond 
Somerville,  and  Carlos  can  find  him.  And  there  is  Mr. 
Martin  and  Doctor  Hurst — he  can  tell  them,  and  they 
can  get  to  the  old  church  }3efore  the  hour — but  you — you 
must  not  go  by  yourself."  She  held  fast ;  and  after  a 
few  efforts  to  disengage  herself,  Elma  hesitated.  "  Car- 
los can  find  them,"  reiterated  Mollie.  ''  Can't  j^ou,  Car- 
los ?  Can't  you  ride  on  by  home  ;  tell  Mr.  Martin  or 
Doctor  Hurst,  and  then  hurry  on  up  the  road  by  the  Old 
Camp  Ground,  until  you  meet  Colonel  Harris? — and — 
and  be  quick  ?  " 

"  Dat  I  kin,"  cried  the  boy,  wheeling  his  horse  around, 
*'  'n  I'se  er  gwine  ter  do  it  in  three  shakes  uv  er  sheep's 
tail."  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  he  overlooked 
the  fact  that  the  two-mile  gallop  had  already  played 
havoc  with  ''Old  Selim's"  powers  of  endurance.  His 
wall  to  be  of  service  to  both  AVyndship  and  "  Miss  Elma" 
was  good ;  and  frantically  digging  his  heels  into  his 
horse's  sides,  he  started  back  down  the  avenue  in  a 
blundering  gallop,  his  own  heels,  at  least,  being  stimu- 
lated to  extra  exertions  by  Elma's  frantic  exhortations 
for  greater  speed. 

"  He  goes  too  slow — his  horse  is  broken  down  now," 
she  cried  despairingly,  as  she  watched  his  exit  into  the 
road.     "  Oh  !  why  didn't  I  make  him  take  Pelham  ?  " 

"Where  is  Tony?"  exclaimed  Mollie.  "  Let  him  take 
your  horse — it's  the  only  one  on  the  place — and  go 
through  the  near  way." 

But  Tony  had  gone  away  immediately  after  tying  the 
pony  to  a  hitching-post.  The  fire  in  the  kitchen  was 
more  agreeable  to  his  African  blood  than  the  chilliness 
of  this  December  morning.  The  speaker  turned  to  nm 
back  after  him,  but  a  sudden  resolution  took  possession 
of  Elma. 

"I  am  going  myself,"  she  called  out  to  her  friend. 
"  I  know  the  path  through  the  pine  woods,  and  can  ride 
as  fast  as  he." 

Quickly  unfastening  the  tie  rein,  she  did  not  take  time 
to  lead  the  pony  to  the  "  horse  blocks,"  but  sprang  into 
the  saddle  from  the  ground.  "  Now,  Pelham,"  she  mut- 
tered, between  rigid  lips,  "  you  must  do  your  best,"  and 


320  A    RIDE    FOR    HELP. 

she  lashed  his  shoulders  with  the  ends  of  the  reins  un- 
til, surprised  and  excited,  he  darted  swiftly  away. 

It  was  a  wild  gait  for  a  woman  to  ride,  but  Elma  had 
been  accustomed  to  horseback  exercise  all  her  life,  and 
easily  kept  her  seat ;  in  fact,  the  only  thing  that 
troubled  her  was  the  imaginary  slowness  of  lier  horse's 
pace.  After  leaving  the  public  road,  her  route  was  a 
by-path  through  the  pine  forest,  which  again  intersected 
the  road  some  two  miles  beyond  the  village.  This  path 
was  dim  and  little  travelled ;  was  crossed  by  several 
branches,  now  filled  with  water,  and  in  places  was 
"  lapped  "  by  the  bushes  from  either  side  ;  but  none  of 
these  obstructions  checked  her  speed.  The  mud  and 
water  splashed  over  her  from  head  to  foot,  the  brush 
caught  her  skirt,  tore  away  her  veil,  and  scratched  her 
hands  and  face,  without  attracting  the  least  attention. 
One  thing,  however,  did  force  a  recognition  from  her 
excited  brain,  and  that  was,  that  the  moaning  of  the 
pines  overhead,  rising  above  the  noise  of  the  pony's 
feet,  seemed  to  be  chanting  a  funeral  dirge  for  her 
lover.  With  lips  drawn  so  tight  that  all  vestiges  of 
color  had  left  them,  she  urged  her  pony  on,  frantically 
lashing  the  reins  from  side  to  side  ;  but  every  jump 
seemed  slower — the  trees  moved  leisurely  by,  while  each 
moment  of  the  precious  hour  was  gifted  with  more  than 
Mercury's  speed. 

She  was  trying  to  save  a  Northern  lover  from  South- 
ern vengeance  ;  still  she  appealed  to  her  pony — her  only 
ally — in  the  name  of  a  Southern  hero.  ''  On,  Pelham  ! 
on!  be  worthy  of  your  gallant  name-sake.  Faster! 
faster  I  What  ?  Have  you  lost  the  use  of  your  feet  ? 
Faster !  it  is  for  his  life — more  precious  than  all  the 
world.  Win  this  race — perform  this  duty,  and  hence- 
forth 3^our  life  shall  be  one  of  ease  and  equine  luxury. 
What?  Are  you  about  to  fail?  You,  who  were  consid- 
ered worthy  to  bear  the  name  of  the  "Boy  Soldier,"  who 
never  faltered  before  any  duty?  Oh,  my  God  help 
us." 

She  thought  she  knew  this  path  well — had  travelled 
it  often  before — but  surely  there  has  been  some  change  ; 
it  had  grown  longer ;  aye,  distances  had  stretched 
out  and  doubled  themselves.  "And  what  if  Colonel 
Harris  and  his  regiment  had  gone  off  in  some  other 
dii'ection,    and  after   all,  I  should  miss   him?"      The 


BELLEVIEW.  321 

burning  eyes  grew  larger,  and  the  sharp  upper  teeth 
brought  a  red  stain  from  the  under  lip  at  this  harrowing 
thought.  This  possibility  had  not  crossed  her  mind 
when  she  caught  up  Mollie's  suggestion.  The  idea  tliat 
then  presented  itself  was,  that  she  had  so  many  miles  to 
ride  in  ^oing  after,  and  so  many  in  bringing  back  the 
desired  succor.  This  she  might  accomplish  in  the  pre- 
scribed time  ;  but  what  good  would  it  do  if  she  failed  to 
find  the  Confederates  ?  Under  the  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment she  had  come  off  on  a  doubtful  errand,  when  she 
should  have  gone  direct  to  Wyndship.  His  captors 
would  have  yielded  to  her  representations.  They  would 
not — they  could  not  carry  their  brutal  sentence  into  exe- 
cution while  she  stood  by  his  side,  while  her  person  was 
interposed  as  a  shield  for  his  protection.  They  were 
Southern  men,  and  though  hardened  and  brutalized  by 
war,  still  possessed  some  of  the  Southern  respect  and 
chivalric  feeling  toward  womankind.  They  would  re- 
member their  mothers,  their  wives,  and  their  sisters,  and 
.yield  to  her  entreaties.  She  was  losing — had  lost — pre- 
cious moments  that  could  never  be  recalled ;  aye,  was 
expending  her  horse's  strength  in  what  might  prove  a 
fruitless  errand.  Had  she  not  better  turn  back  before 
it  was  too  late  ?  She  asked  the  question  in  mute  appeal 
to  some  higher  judgment,  some  greater  omniscience 
than  her  own  ;  but  in  vain.  She  asked  the  question  even 
of  the  inanimate  objects  around  ;  but  the  radiant,  indif- 
ferent sunshine,  the  musical,  melancholy  pines,  and  the 
heartless,  leafless  undergrowth,  all  refused  to  answer. 

But  it  would  not  do  to  despair.  "  One  more  effort, 
my  gallant  pony — call  up  all  your  strength  for  one  more 
effort,  and  these  doubts  will  be  decided.  Over  this  rise 
and  we  strike  the  main  road,  and  if — "  Ah,  that  cruel 
if,  and  still  more  cruel  disappointment.  These  pine 
woods  are  so  much  alike — each  long  slant,  and  each 
sluggish  stream,  with  its  fringe  of  wild  indigo  and  gall- 
berry  bushes,  just  like  the  one  preceding.  This  rise  is 
not  the  last,  for  when  the  top  was  reached,  the  eager 
eyes  beheld  another  long  descent,  another  meandering 
•'  branch,"  with  another  lengthening  rise  beyond.  Even 
it  might  not  be  the  last,  for  she  had  taken  no  note  of  the 
number  passed,  and  knew  not  how  many  were  before. 

On  the  pony  plunged,  scattering  his  foam  over  the 
dead  leaves  and  grass,  and  shaking  his  extended  Jjead  in 


322  A   RIDE   FOR   HELP. 

mute  protest  against  the  ceaseless  lashing  of  the  bridle- 
reins.  Never  before  had  his  speed  been  called  in  ques- 
tion— never  before  had  he  found  his  mistress  so  exact- 
ing. Strive  and  strain  as  he  might,  still  unsatisfied  she 
called  for  greater  exertions.  Nobly  did  he  respond, 
still  the  endless  procession  of  pines  moved  by  in  a  slow 
and  solemn  march,  chanting  their  harrowing  dirge,  while 
each  leafless  bush  and  shrub  seemed  to  be  mocking  all 
his  efforts.  Still  the  heartless,  sliimmering  sunshine  fell 
in  golden  showers,  jeering  at  her  misery,  and  taunting 
her  bursting  heart  with  its  own  exuberant  brightness. 
Chilly  with  fear,  and  distracted  with  doubts,  with  her 
pulse  one  moment  beating  in  unison  with  her  horse's 
hoofs,  and  the  next,  as  still  as  if  her  blood  had  ceased 
to  flow,  Elma  could  only  pray,  and  hope,   and  despair. 

But  Pelham  proved  equal  to  this  much  of  his  task,  for 
surel}",  3^onder  fringe  of  bushes  must  be  the  road ;  and 
— what  is  that?  Oh,  the  jo^'ful  sight — men  on  horse- 
back, with  guns  in  hand,  watching  her  swift  approach. 
They  had  heard  the  beating  of  the  pony's  feet,  and  had 
thrown  out  videttes  to  ascertain  the  cause,  and  the  next 
moment  she  was  surrounded  by  armed  men,  whose 
weather-beaten,  battle-scarred  visages  glowed  with  cu- 
rious interest  and  surprise. 

''  Is  this  the  — th  Georgia  cavalry?  "  she  demanded, 
in  a  broken,  panting  voice. 

"Yes,  madam,"  answered  one,  an  oflScer,  touching 
his  hat. 

'*  Where  is  Colonel  Harris?  '* 

''  There  he  is,  coming  up  the  road." 

Hurriedly  turning,  for  no  time  must  be  lost,  she 
found  herself  face  to  face  with  the  friend  she  was  seeking. 

"  Oh  !    Colonel  Harris " 

"Elma!  is  that  3^ou?  Why,  what  does  this  mean? 
What  is  the  matter?" 

"  I — I  have  come  after  you — I  want  you  to  go " 

"What?  Are  there  any  Yankees  over  about  Belle- 
view?"  he  asked,  as  she  broke  down,  his  eyes  scanning 
her  white  face,  and,  at  the  same  time,  taking  note  of  her 
pony's  exhausted  condition.  "  If  there  is,"  he  added, 
"  and  they  have  been  committing  any  of  their  outrages, 
we'll  make  them  pay  for  it  with  heavy  interest." 

' '  Oh  no  !  not  that — I  have  come  after  you  to  save — to 
stop  an  execution — a  murder,'* 


BELLEVIEW.  323 

•'  What  execution? " 

''That  of  1113^ — friend — your  friend,  Mr.  Wyndship. 
He  has  been  captured  by  some  bushwhackers,  who  are 
going  to  kill  him." 

"Who?" 

"  Mr.  Wyndship." 

"Wyndship?  Wyndship?  Who  is — 0 — I  thought  he 
was  in  the  Yankee  army  ?  " 

"  He  has  been  captured,  I  tell  you !  "  she  cried,  impa- 
tient with  his  slow  apprehension  ;  "  and  they  are  going 
to  murder  him  !  " 

"  You  seem  to  be  very  much  disturbed  about  the  death 
of  an  enemy — a  Union  soldier,"  he  said,  meaningly. 

A  hunted  and  despairing  look  came  into  her  eyes. 
Was  it  possible  that  this  friend  would  refuse  to  interfere 
— this  one,  on  whom  she  had  so  undoubtingly  relied? 

"  What  is  all  this  about,  anyhow  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Tell 
me  the  circumstances." 

"  But  we  haven't  time,"  she  pleaded — "  he  dies  at 
half-past  ten  o'clock,  and  it  is  long  miles  from  here. 
Oh !  why  do  you  hesitate,  while  every  moment  is  pre- 
cious? Colonel  Harris,  will  you  not  do  this  for  me? 
Will  you  not  help  me  save  his  life  ?  " 

Her  friend  had  not  been  so  slow  of  apprehension  as 
she  thought.  He  remembered  some  things  he  had  heard 
in  the  past,  and  guessed  pretty  close  to  the  motives  that 
brought  the  Northern  teacher  back  to  Somerville,  and 
also  the  cause  of  Elma's  interest  in  his  fate  ;  neither 
could  he  resist  the  anguish  in  her  eyes  and  the  pleadings 
in  her  voice. 

"  Certainly,  I  will,"  he  replied  with  sudden  decision. 
"  Certainly,  I'll  try.    Where  is  he — Avhere  must  we  go?  " 

"At  the  old  negro  church  on  the  road  to  Harper's 
bridge.  Oh  !  be  quick — hurry — get  there  in  time,  and 
I'll " 

But  Colonel  Harris  did  not  wait  to  hear  what  would  be 
his  reward,  and  was  already  giving  orders  for  a  detail  of 
a  few  of  his  best-mounted  men  to  accompany  him- 

"  Select  the  best  horses,  Lieutenant,"  he  said  to  a 
subaltern;  "never  mind  the  number — four,  or  five,  or 
less  will  do,  so  they  are  well  mounted.  "  But,"  he 
added,  raising  his  voice  and  addressing  the  command, 
"  who  of  you  know  the  road  to  Harper's  bridge,  or  the 


324  A    RIDE    FOR    ilELP. 

nearest  way  to  that  old  church  ?  I  do  not  remember  it 
myself,  and  we  must  have  a  guide." 

"  I  will  show  you — I  came  the  nearest  way,"  Elma 
answered  immediately.  ' '  I  am  going  with  you — I 
must,"  she  added,  when  she  saw  hesitation  in  his  face. 

"  My  child,  your  horse  is  blown,  and,  I  dare  say,  you 
are  exhausted.  It  will  be  too  much  for  j^our  powers  of 
endurance  ;  besides,  your  horse  will  not  hold  out." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  will — won't  he?  "  with  a  pitiful  tremor 
in  her  voice.  *'  I  miist  go  with  j^ou  to  show  the  nearest 
way.     Oh  !  Colonel  Harris  ;  he  will  hold  out,  I'm  sure." 

''  The  young  lady  might  change  horses  with  me,"  sug- 
gested the  officer  to  whom  she  had  first  spoken.  "  Mine 
is  in  good  condition,  and  is  very  fleet." 

She  cast  a  quick  scrutinizing  glance  at  the  animal  be- 
neath the  speaker. 

*'He  is  perfectly  safe  for  a  lady  who  can  ride  like 
you,"  he  continued,  misapprehending  the  meaning  of 
the  look.  But  she  was  not  thinking  about  that — it  was 
the  horse's  speed  and  endurance  she  was  trying  to  esti- 
mate. 

"  Thank  you !  "  she  cried  ;  "  thank  you  ever  so  much 
for  the  exchange — only  be  quick,"  and  springing  to  the 
ground,  with  nervous  fingers  she  commenced  trying  to 
unfasten  her  saddle-girth.  However,  other  and  stronger 
hands,  which  had  been  stimulated  into  action  by  sym- 
pathy for  her  distress,  interposed,  and  in  a  very  short 
period  of  time  the  saddles  were  exchanged  and  she  lifted 
back  into  her  seat.  Colonel  Harris  and  his  subordinate 
had  been  equally  expeditious  in  making  their  arrange- 
ments, and  soon  reported  ready. 

"Take  the  regiment  on  to  Somerville,  Major,  and 
there  wait  until  you  hear  from  us,"  shouted  the  former 
as  he  followed  Elma,  who,  at  the  word  ready,  had  darted 
off  through  the  scraggy  undergrowth  in  the  direction  she 
had  come. 

"  My  God  !  can't  she  ride,"  exclaimed  the  Major,  ad- 
miringly, as  he  watched  the  rescue  party.  "  Didn't  she 
say  the  bushwhackers  were  about  to  kill  somebody?" 

"  They  were  about  to  kill  a  Yankee  prisoner,  I  think," 
answered  one  of  his  men. 

"No;  it  was  the  Yankees  who  were  about  to  kill 
some  one  for  bushwhacking — her  lover,  I  reckon,"  cor- 
rected another. 


BELLEVIEW.  325 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  who  it  is — Yankee  or  Rebel,"  re- 
plied the  Major ;  ''  he  is  a  lucky  fellow  to  have  her  on 
his  side." 

"  What  fix  do  you  suppose  Zip  will  be  in,  when  you 
see  him  again  ?  "  jestingly  inquired  another,  as  the  officer 
was  critically  examining  the  almost  exhausted  pony  left 
on  his  hands. 

"  In  about  as  bad  a  fix  as  this  pony  is  now,  I  reckon," 
he  answered,  in  a  tone  of  regret  for  the  good  steed  who 
had  borne  him  so  faithfully  during  many  a  wearisome 
march,  as  well  as  through  many  an  imminent  danger. 
''But  then.  Zip  is  like  his  master,"  he  added,  philo- 
sophically, "  and  can't  refuse  anything  to  the  ladies. 
Whatever  they  demand  of  us  must  be  done,  even  if  we 
break  our  fool  necks  in  the  act.  Well,  it  is  all  right, 
anyhow,  I  reckon — he  might  as  well  be  ridden  to  death 
by  some  pretty  woman  in  trying  to  save  her  sweetheart, 
as  to  be  shot  to  death  by  some  cursed  Yankee  bullet.  I 
wish  I  were  that  sweetheart,  though." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ARTHUR  LEAVES  NOTHING  TO  FATE,  BUT  GOES  IN  TO  WIN. 

Captain  Barnes  was  restless.  After  granting  the 
short  respite  to  his  prisoner,  he  immediately  left  the 
party,  and  commenced  pacing  up  and  down  the  road. 
He  felt  anything  but  comfortable  about  this  affair. 
Somehow  the  conviction  that  Wyndship  was  guiltless  of 
the  charges  against  him,  and  that  he  was  permitting  the 
murder  of  an  innocent  man,  would  rise  to  trouble  his 
conscience.  He  tried  to  quiet  the  monitor  by  assuring 
it  that  it  was  not  his  act — that  he  had  "  left  it  to  the 
boys,"  and  it  was  their  doing — not  his  ;  but  still  it  per- 
sisted in  calling  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  have  taken  a  part  in  the  verdict,  and  to  have 
used  his  influence  and  authority  in  the  cause  of  right  and 
justice  ;  that  the  duties  of  his  command,  as  well  as  the 
common  instincts  of  humanity,  demanded  as  much,  and, 
if  a  mistake  was  committed,  the  heaviest  responsibility 
would  rest  on  his  shoulders.  Convicted  on  this  point, 
he  tried  to  find   justification  in  another  way.     "  He  is 


326  ARTHUR    GOES    IN   TO    "V\aN. 

only  a  Yankee,"  he  argued  to  bis  conscience,  '^  and  they 
liave  done  much  worse  things  than  this.  He  is  a  soklier, 
and  must  expect  to  run  the  risk  of  death  in  some  shape 
or  other  ;  hut  his  side — his  comrades — have  shot  down 
paaceable  and  inoffensive  old  men  on  the  slightest  provo- 
cation ;  aye,  and  brought  worse  than  death  to  helpless 
women  and  innocent  girls."  Then  why  should  he  care, 
if  this  man — one  of  tlie  South' s  hated  enemies — a  mem- 
ber of  that  army  which  was,  even  now,  carrying  death 
and  destruction  throughout  the  Confederacy  with  such 
ruthless  barbarity — why  should  he  care  if  he  paid  the 
penalty  for  his  comrades'  sins  ? 

But  Barnes  was  not  naturally  a  bad  man,  and  these 
excuses  were  not  entirely  satisfactory.  He  had  seen 
many  of  the  outrages  perpetrated  by  the  Federal  sol- 
diery during  the  campaign,  and  had  heard  of  much  more. 
He  hated  his  enemies  cordially,  and  had  won  some  repu- 
tation as  a  desperate  and  ferocious  fighter ;  but  that  was 
in  fair  combat  and  according  to  the  rules  and  usages  of 
war.  If  his  company  had  never  been  over-anxious  to 
make  prisoners,  still  those  that  were  made  had  always 
been  accorded  the  privileges  to  which  they  were  en- 
titled. He  had  started  out  that  morning  determined  on 
swift  and  summary  vengeance,  but,  face  to  face  with  the 
supposed  criminal,  his  ardor  had  unaccountably  cooled. 
He  was  no  lawyer,  and  could  not  legally  anal3^ze  the  evi- 
dence he  had  heard,  but  his  good  sense  told  him  that  it 
w^as  insufficient,  and,  besides,  the  prisoner's  speech, 
manners  and  appearances  all  contradicted  Blufkins's 
tale.  With  these  doubts,  or  rather  with  this  conviction 
strong  in  his  mind,  he  could  not  delude  his  conscience 
into  acquiescing  to  the  verdict ;  but  what  was  he  to  do  ? 
How  was  he  to  help  himself  without  violating  his  promise 
to  his  followers?  Three  of  them  at  least,  he  felt  as- 
sured, would  not  quietly  submit,  and  division  and  strife 
with  and  among  his  men  were  the  last  things  to  be  de- 
sired. 

Suddenly  he  paused  in  his  restless  promenading,  and 
calling  to  the  one  named  Sam,  ordered  him  to  ride  across 
to  the  ambush  on  the  other  road,  and  to  tell  Lieutenant 
Dawson  to  bring  his  part  of  the  company  over  to  the 
church,  and  then  to  go  back  to  the  camp  after  the  other 
two  prisoners.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  make  an 
attempt  to  set  aside  the  verdict,  and  thought  that,  pos- 


BELLEVIEW.  327 

sibly,  in  all  his  command,  lie  would  have  support  enough 
to  overrule  the  opposition.  He  also  cnlcuhited  that 
there  would  still  be  time  enough  for  the  other  prisoners 
to  arrive  and  be  examined  as  AVyndship  had  demanded. 
If  their  evidence  should  corroborate  that  given  by  Bluf- 
kins  his  conscience  would  be  satisfied ;  if  not,  then  the 
sentence  must  not  be  executed. 

When  Arthur  Slaton  left  his  father's  place  to  join  the 
Scouts,  he  naturally  sought  the  nearest  party,  which 
happened  to  be  the  one  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Daw- 
son. He  had  so  far  overcome  his  fears  as  to  decide  on 
taking  one  more  step  in  carrying  out  his  revenge,  and 
that  if  his  plot  failed,  it  should  not  be  through  any  fault 
of  his.  The  bridge  had  been  cut  down  behind  him,  and 
he  must  now  succeed  in  destrojing  his  enemy  or  be  de- 
stroyed himself.  Self-preservation  was  now  allied  with 
the  desire  for  revenge,  and  both  feelings  were  the 
strongest  incentives  that  had  ever  prompted  his  cow- 
ardly, malignant  nature  to  action.  He  still  had  confi- 
dence in  the  power  of  his  tongue  —the  only  weapon  he 
ever  dared  to  use — and  fully  appreciated  the  influence 
of  one  person  in  a  critical  moment.  A  few  words 
rightly  spoken,  at  the  proper  time  ;  aye,  an  insinuation, 
or  even  a  look,  will  often  decide  the  verdict,  or  exdte  the 
passions  of  a  mob,  and  if  a  plentiful  use  of  these  means 
could  effect  it,  Wyndship  should  die. 

During  the  short  ride  he  arranged  in  his  mind  the  de- 
tails of  another  confession,  which  he  hastened  to  reveal 
to  the  Confederates  as  soon  as  he  reached  their  station. 
This  confession,  he  claimed,  was  made  to  him  privately 
by  one  of  the  two  prisoners  left  at  the  camp,  and  related 
to  numerous  cruelties  and  barbarities  that  AVyndship  had 
inflicted,  not  only  on  Rebel  captives,  but  also  on  non- 
combatants  who  had  fallen  into  his  power  during  the 
war.  The  necessities  of  his  position  had  greatly  excited 
his  gift  at  lying,  and  he  painted  his  narrative  in  the 
highest  colors ;  in  fact,  laid  on  the  vermilion  much 
heavier  than  was  prudent.  He  did  not  stop  to  consider 
the  certainty  of  his  falsehoods  coming  to  light,  or  wliat 
might  be  their  secondary  effect  on  himself — he  cared 
nothing  for  the  after-clap  just  then,  provided  he  suc- 
ceeded in  destroying  his  enem}'.  Tiie  very  boldness  and 
imprudence  of  his  statements  brought  him  l3elief  and  suc- 
cess ;  for  his  auditors,  knowing  nothing  of  the  personal 


328  ARTHUR    GOES    IN   TO    WIN. 

relations  between  himself  and  Wjmdship,  and  suspect- 
ing no  animosit}^  except  natural  resentment  at  the  sup- 
posed attempt  against  his  and  his  father's  life  b}^  the 
latter,  saw  no  reason  for  foul  pla}^  on  his  part.  Even  a 
fool,  they  thought,  would  know  better  than  to  tell  false- 
hoods that  could  be  so  easily  disproved,  and  that,  too, 
without  more  than  an  hour  or  two's  delay.  Moreover, 
they  each  and  all  already  carried  a  heavy  load  of  resent- 
ment towards  the  Yankees,  and  thought  that  the  time 
had  come  for  a  little  retaliation,  anyhow  ;  consequently, 
the  effect  of  his  tale  was  all  he  could  have  desired. 

Just  as  he  finished,  Sam  rode  up  with  Barnes's  mes- 
sage, and  informed  them  all  of  what  had  transpired  at 
the  old  church.  As  Sam  had  voted  against  conviction, 
he  naturally  expressed  himself  favorably  towards  the 
condemned  man,  revealing  his  doubts  of  the  justness  of 
the  sentence,  and  stating,  too,  that  the  Captain  was  also 
in  doubt.  This  opinion  was  met  by  a  storm  of  angry 
dissent  b}^  Dawson's  part}^,  who,  with  stern,  set  lips  and 
flaming  eyes,  started  at  once  for  the  rendezvous.  Slaton 
went  along  with  them ;  his  scheme  was  working  ad- 
mirabl}^,  and  he  was  determined  to  see  it  through. 

"  Phew !"  ejaculated  Sam,  as  he  watched  them  ride 
away.  "  There'll  be  hell  to  pay  when  that  crowd  gets 
.there.  I  think  the  Captain  has  made  a  mistake  (that  is, 
if  he's  arter  what  I  think  he  is) ,  an'  will  haf 'ter  roost 
powerful  low,  onless  he  wants  a  rumpus  with  his  own 
men.  That  Yankee  Major  is  gone  up,  onless  something 
turns  up  in  his  favor  might}^  darned  quick." 

"There's  something  d d  strange  about  this  whole 

affair,  enyhow,"  he  added,  musingly,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  "  'n'  I  don't  understand  it.  There's  a  bug  un- 
der the  chip  some'ers,  or  my  name  ain't  Sam  Kidley.  That 
Yankee  Major  don't  look  nor  talk  like  a  bad  man,  'n' 
the  other  fellow  does.  If  he  aint  a  rascal  he  ought  to 
sue  his  own  face  for  libel — any  jury  would  give  him 
damages.  Well,  I'm  gwine  ter  see  what  them  other  two 
fellers  has  got  to  say,  'n'  if  their  tale  don't  agree  with 
Blufkins's  I'll  hustle  'em  over  there  in  double-quick 
time.  If  it  does,  then — well,  there'll  be  no  use  in  hur- 
ry in'."  Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  urged  his 
war-worn  steed  into  as  rapid  a  pace  as  was  warranted  by 
his  broken-down  condition. 

Sam's  prognostications  with  reference  to  his  Captain 


BELLEVIEW.  329 

and  his  comrades  proved  true.  On  the  arrival  of  Daw- 
son's party,  Barnes  found  that,  as  far  as  saving  the  life 
of  the  condemned  man  was  concerned,  the  increased 
numbers  only  added  to  his  own  helplessness.  They  were 
not  at  all  disposed  to  accept  his  view  of  the  case,  or  to  be 
influenced  by  his  arguments  and  representations,  and 
were  an  overpowering  reinforcement,  not  for  him,  but 
for  Jim  and  Peeler.  Finding  his  efforts  useless,  and  not 
wishing  to  participate  in,  or  witness  the  execution,  he 
walked  away  np  the  road  towards  Somerville,  leaving 
his  Lieutenant  to  manage  the  affair  as  he,  or  rather  as  the 
men,  pleased.  The  latter  were  all  from  ^Middle  Tennes- 
see, a  section  which  had  suffered  severely  during  the 
war,  and  many  of  them  had  friends  or  families  who  had 
been  cruelly  treated  by  the  Northern  troops.  Maddened 
and  excited  by  Slaton's  artful  tongue,  and  firmly  believ- 
ing in  Wyndship's  guilt,  they  were  determined  to  en- 
force the  verdict,  thereby  visiting  on  the  offender  an  act 
of  just  retribution,  and  at  the  same  time  satisfy  their 
own  thirst  for  revenge. 

When  assured  that  Carlos  had  got  safely  away,  our 
hero's  spirits  quickly  revived.  He  felt  satisfied  that  his 
friends  would  come  promptly  to  his  assistance,  and, 
without  an  accident,  would  arrive  before  the  appointed 
hour ;  consequently,  it  was  more  to  occupy  the  time  of 
waiting  than  because  he  anticipated  the  worst,  that  he 
took  out  his  order  book  and  commenced  writing,  what 
might  be  his  last  words  to  Elma.  Even  under  his  pres- 
ent circumstances  writing  to  her  was  not  an  unpleasant 
task ;  in  fact,  it  was  the  most  agreeable  way  in  which  to 
pass  the  time  ;  therefore  he  gave  her  an  account  of  his 
capture,  of  his  mock  trial,  and  of  his  hopes  of  rescue. 
After  this  came  the  natural  protestations  of  a  lover,  as- 
surances that  her  image  was  coustantl}^  before  him,  and 
that  thoughts  of  her  alone  held  sway  over  his  mind  while 
awaiting  the  dreadful  alternative.  This  finished,  he  had 
only  to  wait  the  measured  march  of  moments,  which  are 
neither  hastened  nor  delayed  by  any  man's  necessities  ; 
and  each  of  which  carried  him  nearer  his  salvation,  or 
his  doom. 

The  animated  discussion  which  followed  the  arrival 
of  the  second  party  attracted  his  attention,  but  it 
was  carried  on  too  far  off,  and  in  too  low  a  tone,  for 
him  to  understand  its  meaning.     Slaton  did  not  take  an 


330  ARTHUR    GOES    IN   TO    ^VIN. 

open  part  iu  this  discussion,  and  he  also  carefully  kept 
himself  out  of  the  range  of  his  victim's  sight.  To  en- 
compass the  latter's  destruction  was  all  he  desired,  and 
he  did  not  care  or  dare  to  regale  himself  with  the  pleas- 
ure of  taunts  and  abuse.  Had  his  own  position  been 
more  secure  it  might  have  been  different,  but  it  would 
not  do  to  run  any  risks  of  balking  his  own  scheme  just 
now,  for  the  mere  satisfaction  of  jeering  his  enemy. 

It  was  a  few  minutes  past  ten  o'clock,  and  ^Vyndship's 
attention  was  alread}^  turned  anxiously  in  the  direction 
of  Somei'^ille,  when  his  guards  ordered  him  to  rise. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  he  demanded,  i^romptly  obey- 
ing the  order. 

"  You'll  find  out  directly,"  was  the  evasive  answer. 
They  marched  him  forward  to  the  side  of  the  road  and 
halted. 

*'  What  does  this  mean?"  he  cried,  the  truth  suddenly 
flashing  into  his  mind,  as  he  noticed  a  squad  of  six 
ranging  themselves  on  the  opposite  side  with  their  guns 
in  their  hands. 

"It  means  that  your  time  is  up." 

"But  it  is  not  up — you  are  mistaken — it  is  not  half-past 
ten  yet,  and  your  Captain  gave  me  until  then.  See  for 
yourselves,"  he  added,  pulling  out  his  watch. 

"It  is  none  of  our  fault  if  3'our  watch  is  too  slow," 
was  the  sullen  answer. 

"It  is  not  too  slow — look  at  your  own  watches." 

For  an  answer  they  seized  his  arms  ;  which,  after  a 
struggle,  were  securely  tied  behind  him.  His  feet  were 
then  secured  by  a  short  rope  that  did  not  prevent  his 
standing,  but  precluded  all  attempts  to  run.  In  vain  he 
protested  against  such  indignities,  as  well  as  against  the 
curtailment  of  his  short  respite  ;  apparentl}"  his  remon- 
strances fell  on  deaf  ears,  or  hardened  hearts.  Finding 
his  struggles  and  appeals  both  useless,  he  desisted ;  and, 
recovering  his  self-possession,  he  drew  himself  together 
to  meet  his  fate  like  a  brave  man  should.  ]SIore  than 
one  of  his  captors  secretly  admired  his  cool  demeanor 
and  unflinching  courage,  but  others  became  only  the 
more  enraged.  It  stung  Jim  like  a  thousand  scorpions, 
to  see  anything  in  a  Yankee  which  he  was  compelled  to 
respect.  Dawson  then  approached,  and  with  some  show 
of  feeling,  offered  to  receive  any  messages  and  any  val- 
uables he  might  have  about  him,  and  to  transmit  them 


BELLEVIEW.  331 

safely  to  his  friends.  AVymlship  indignantly  rejected 
the  offer,  and  looking  past  the  officer,  noticed  the  one 
called  Smith  standing  to  one  side,  watching.him  in  pity- 
ing silence. 

''I  prefer  the  services  of  that  man,"  he  said.  "He 
seems  to  have  some  conscience,  and  some  idea  of  right 
and  justice." 

Dawson  stepped  back  and  motioned  to  Smith,  who 
approached  the  prisoner. 

''  My  friend,"  said  Wyndship,  in  a  steady  voice,  sup- 
pressing the  indignation  and  horror  he  naturally  felt, 
'*  will  you  do  a  service  for  a  dying  man?  " 

"  Willingly,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  not  near  so  firm 
as  the  one  in  which  the  question  had  been  put. 

*' Then  feel  in  my  breast  pocket  and  take  out  that 
note-book — that  is  it.  Now,  there  is  a  ring  on  my  fin- 
ger— take  that  off.  Now,  my  watch.  There — I  want  you 
to  take  these  things  to  a  Miss  Owens,  who  lives  at 
Belleview — Colonel  Gachet's  home — between  here  and 
Somerville.  Deliver  them  to  her  yourself — in  person. 
Will  you  do  this  for  me  ?  " 

"  1  will." 

''  Thank  you  for  the  promise,  and  rest  assured  that 
you  have  a  dying  man's  prayer  to  God,  that  He  may 
preserve  you  from  a  fate  like  his — aye,  and  that  j^ou 
may  escape  the  dangers  of  this  war,  and  return  in  safety 
to  your  loved  ones  at  home.  Take  my  pocket-book,  too 
— in  it  you  will  find  some  money,  which  I  want  you  to 
keep.  This  war  will  soon  be  over,  and  you  will  need  it 
in  the  wreck  that  will  follow  the  downfall  of  the  South. 

Break   j^our   news    to  El to  Miss  Owens  as  lightly 

as  you  can— but  why  tell  you  that,  as  if  such  news  could 
come  to  her  in  but  one  way?  Oh  !  God,  help  her  to  bear 
it."  For  the  first  time  his  voice  broke  down,  and  a 
shudder  of  pain  and  horror  shook  his  frame.  Soon 
mastering  his  emotions,  he  continued:  "Tell  Colonel 
Gachetall  about  this  affair — the  whole  truth.  That  I 
believe  that  I  am  the  victim  of  some  conspiracy,  which 
I  cannot  now  fathom,  but  which  may  some  day  come  to 
light.  I  make  these,  my  last  requests,  of  3^ou,  because  I 
can  see  from  your  face  that  you  are  sorry  for  me,  and 
that  you  regret  the  decision  of  your  comrades.  Never 
mind,"  he  added,  interrupting  Smith's  protestations. 
♦'You  are  in  no  wise  to  blame,  and  I  want  you  to  tell 


332  ARTHUR   GOES   IN   TO   WIN. 

my  friends  that  3'ou  are  not  responsible  for,  and  could 
not  prevent  this  murder. 

''  If  it  is  God's  good  pleasure  for  me  to  die  now,  and  in 
this  way,  it  must  be  for  the  best,  and  I  must  submit  like 
a  brave  man.  Tell  my  friends  how  I  bore  myself  to  the 
last,  and  tell  Elma — Miss  Owens,  that  my  last  thoughts 
were  of  her.  Now  go — as  it  is  inevitable,  the  sooner  it 
is  over  the  better.  Good-bj^e,  and  may  God  prosper  and 
preserve  j^ou." 

Smith  turued  and  walked  slowly  aAvay,  the  tears 
dropping  from  his  eyes.  AVyndsliip's  head  dropped  upon 
his  breast,  and  for  a  moment  he  stood  like  one  silently 
praying.  Dawson  shifted  his  position  uneasilj^,  cleared 
his  throat  once  or  twice,  glanced  along  the  ranks  of  his 
men  as  if  in  search  of  their  moral  support,  and  then 
called  out  hesitatingly : 

"  You  can  kneel,  either  with  your  back  to  the  file,  or 
facing  them,  as  3'ou  prefer — or  we  will  blindfold  you." 

Wyndship  raised  his  head,  and  the  color  came  back  to 
his  cheeks.  "  I  will  face  them  standing,"  he  cried,  in  a 
clear,  defiant  tone,  without  a  tremor  in  its  note.  *'  I  pre- 
fer to  die  with  my  face  to  the  foe,  even  if  that  foe  is 
nothing  but  a  mob  of  cowardly  murderers." 

He  gazed  unflinchingly  into  the  faces  of  his  execution- 
ers, until  the  glance  of  more  than  one  shifted  to  some  other 
object.  Then  he  turned  his  eyes  for  a  last  look  on  the  earth 
and  sky,  that  had  appeared  so  bright  and  beautiful  but 
a  few  hours  before.  The  time  had  come  for  him  to  say 
good-bye  to  these  forever ;  aye,  and  a  last  farewell  to 
the  delirious  hopes,  the  joyous  life,  and  the  love-lit  future, 
which  had  intoxicated  his  imagination  that  very  morn- 
ing. All  this  was  past,  was  gone — had  vanished  like  the 
phantasm  of  a  dream,  and  before  him — at  his  feet — lay 
a  dark  and  dishonored  grave.  And  beyond  this  grave 
there  was  something  even  worse  than  it — the  despair  and 
misery  of  the  woman  he  loved — the  heavy  load  of  heart- 
break and  sorrow  which  her  shoulders  must  bear — those 
shoulders  which  he  had  fondly  decreed  should  bear  noth- 
ing heavier  than  the  mantle  of  love  and  happiness.  All 
this  had  been  crowded  into  a  few  short  hours — the  two 
greatest  extremes  of  life,  and  now — its  end. 

If  his  fortitude  faltered  when  he  thought  of  this,  it 
was  quickly  restored  when  his  eyes  fell  on  Blufkins, 
whose  brutal  face  was  now  distorted  with  the  pleasure 


BELLEVIEW.  333 

of  revenge.  Did  he  also  see  on  the  opposite  side  a  pair 
of  eager,  exultant  eyes,  gleaming  from  behind  a  tree? 
If  so,  he  made  no  sign  as  he  turned  again  to  the  front. 
Everyone's  attention  was  now  fixed  on  the  scene  and 
on  him,  its  principal  figure.  Every  interest  was  centered 
on  the  tragedy  about  to  be  enacted  ;  and  with  various 
emotions— regretful  pity,  heartless  indifference,  cruel  re- 
venge, malignant  hate,  and  gloating  triumph — waited 
the  final  stroke  in  breathless  silence.  Slowly  the  com- 
mands were  given  and  obeyed  :  j 

''Attention,  squad — Present  arms — Make  ready — 
Take  aim " 

"Hold  up,  there  ! — stop  !  "  shouted  a  voice  from  up 
the  road.  Those  that  turned,  saw  Barnes  waving  his 
hand,  and  heard  him  repeat  the  command  to  stop.  Be- 
yond him,  coming  around  a  bend  in  the  road  at  full  speed, 
was  a  party  of  horsemen,  with  a  woman  riding  in  front. 
They  too  were  hallooing  and  eagerly  gesticulating,  as  they 
urged  ou  their  horses.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Were  they 
enemies,  or  friends? 

Dawson  mechanically  repeated  his  Captain's  order, 
but  it  was  only  partly  obeyed.  The  devilish  eyes  from 
behind  the  tree  were  also  on  the  alert,  and  their  owner, 
Arthur  Slaton,  was  amongst  the  first  to  see  the  new- 
comers, and  by  several  seconds  the  first  to  guess  the 
truth. 

"Fire!"  he  cried,  springing  from  his  shelter,  and 
throwing  aside  all  concealment  in  his  desperation. 
"Fire!  shoot  down  the  spy."  And  then  jumping  on 
his  horse,  he  galloped  away. 

Five  of  the  six  carbines  were  already  on  their  way  to 
the  "rest,"  in  obedience  to  Dawson's  order;  but  the 
sixth  one,  held  by  Jim,  still  covered  the  prisoner  with  a 
deliberate  aim.  His  attention  had  never  been  drawn 
from  his  victim,  nor  would  his  eyes  leave  the  sights — 
the  blood  of  his  old  gray-headed  father  called  too 
loudly  for  revenge,  and  at  Slaton's  command,  he  pulled 
the  trigger.  For  some  seconds  after  the  report  Wynd- 
ship  stood  erect,  as  if  untouched,  then  a  quiver  ran 
through  his  body,  the  blood  spurted  from  his  breast,  and 
he  fell  forward  on  his  face.  An  instant  later,  the  rescue 
party  dashed  in  among  his  captors. 

"Too  late!  Oh!  my  God— too  late!"  screamed 
Elma.     Slipping  from  her  saddle,  she  staggered  two  or 


3"!:  TUE    SUEKENDr.;\ 

three  steps  towards  where  her  lover's  body  lay,  and  then 
fell  forward  by  his  side  in  a  swoon. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

:  THE      SURRENDER. 

The  Christmas  of  1864,  a  Christmas  only  in  name  to 
the  stricken  people  of  Georgia,  came  and  passed.  Its 
coming  brought  no  cheering  influences  ;  neither  could  its 
passing  into  the  eternity  of  the  past  add  to  the  universal 
gloom  which  covered  the  land.  The  situation  had  be- 
come too  desperate  for  that — too  dark  to  be  lightened  by 
any  holiday,  the  load  too  heavy  to  notice  the  weight  of 
additional  burdens,  xsot  that  they  liad  lost  all  faith  and 
hope,'  for  these  they  could  not  lose  as  long  as  the  "  Stars 
and  Bars"  still  waved  defiance  to  the  foe  ;  but  it  was  a 
hope  without  reason,  and  faith  founded  on  despair.  To 
give  these  up  was  national  death ;  aye,  was  worse,  for 
it  vras  giving  up  faith  in  all  upon  which  they  had  so 
fondly  relied.  It  was  giving  up  faith  in  the  wisdom  of 
their  rulers,  in  the  skill  of  their  generals,  in  the  prowess 
of  their  citizen  soldiery,  their  fathers,  their  brothers, 
Mid  their  sons.  It  was  giving  up  faith  even  in  the  jus- 
tice of  their  God  himself.  All  this  they  could  not  do, 
and  blindly  pushed  aside  the  cup  of  defeat  and  humili- 
ation which  they  so  soon  had  to  drain  to  its  bitterest 
dregs.  For  mutual  encouragement,  they  assured  each 
other  that  when  the  spring  opened,  the  invincible  Lee 
would  quickly  hurl  his  antagonist  back  from  beleaguered 
Richmond,  while  Johnston's  skeleton  brigades  would  be 
strengthened  and  recuperated  by  reinforcements,  who 
would  visit  upon  the  hated  Shennan  the  punishments 
that  he  so  riehl}"  deserved. 

What  unreasonable  faith  !  What  blind  infatuation  I 
From  whence  did  they  expect  these  reinforcements  to 
come?  Could  their  genial  clime  and  lovely  country 
breed  soldiers,  like  its  stagnant  bayous  did  mosquitoes? 
Or  did  they  expect  the  spirits  of  those  who  had  fallen  at 
Atlanta  and  Jonesboro',  at  Franklin  and  Nashville,  to 
rehabilitate  themselves  with  flesh  and  blood,  that  they 
might  die  a  second  time,  in  order  that  the  Southern  Con- 


BELLEviEw.  i}yr> 

federacy  might  live  ?  Did  they  believe  that  their  gener- 
als were  endowed  with  superhuman  power,  or  did  they 
expect  the  God  of  battles  to  perform  miracles  in  their 
behalf — to  turn  the  puissant  artillery  of  Heaven  against 
their  swarming  enemies  ?  Little  short  of  this  could  have 
brouglit  success  at  that  late  day  ;  still  they  believed  and 
hoped  on,  if  we  can  so  describe  tlie  passionate  longing 
of  their  hearts.  Faith  can,  and  sometimes  does,  stimu- 
late a  people  to  wonderful  deeds,  but  it  cannot  accom- 
plish the  impossible.  It  had  nerved  them  to  make  the 
greatest  struggle  of  history — it  had  covered  their  armies 
with  glory,  but  it  could  do  no  more,  and  the  end  had 
come. 

Neither  could  such  faith  bring  consolation  to  the  ach- 
ing hearts  of  those  whose  loved  ones  had  already  fallen, 
nor  relieve  tho  anxious  suspense  of  others,  who  so  far 
had  escaped  the  dread  intelligence.  It  could  not  wipe 
away  the  orphan's  tear,  it  could  not  lessen  the  widow's 
sorrow,  it  could  not  hush  the  mother's  sobs.  It  could 
not  lighten  the  burden  of  those  who  had  made,  or  were 
making,  their  greatest  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  their 
country.  It  could  not  bring  smiles  to  their  care-worn 
faces,  or  the  light  of  joy  to  their  tear-laden  eyos.  It 
could  not  steady  the  shaking  hand,  or  still  the  throbbing 
heart,  when  each  delayed  letter  or  paper  was  opened,  in 
search  of  the  news  they  hardly  dared  to  read.  If  it 
blinded  their  judgment  as  to  the  result,  it  could  not  de- 
lude them  from  their  misery,  nor  make  them  insensible 
to  the  constant  presence  of  a  fear,  whose  sickening  tor- 
tures gave  their  hearts  no  rest. 

Neither  could  it  make  this  Christmas  like  the  Christ- 
mases  of  old.  It  could  not  bring  back  the  happy  fes- 
tivities, the  enlivening  fun,  the  merry  catching  of 
"  Christmas  gifts"  amidst  young  and  old,  and  between 
master  and  servant,  which  had  ever  made  this  holy  anni- 
versary enjoyable  to  all  alike.  There  was  no  dancing  in 
the  quarter  to  the  music  of  the  banjo  and  of  the  reed 
flute — no  family  dinners  at  the  "  big-house,"  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  balls  in  the  evening,  where  youth  and  beauty 
moved  in  rhythmic  measure  to  the  melting  strains  of  sable 
violinists.  This  kind  of  holidays  had  passed,  never 
again  to  return  to  Georgia.  Instead,  there  was  fasting 
at  home  because  '^  our  boys"  were  fasting  in  the  army  ; 
and   prayers    at   home    and   at   church ;    prayers   with 


336  THE    STTBREI^DER. 

streaming  eyes  and  aching  hearts — in  figurative  sack- 
cloth and  ashes — for  the  salvation  of  their  country,  and 
for  the  preservation  of  their  soldiers. 

So  the  Christmas  of  1864  passed,  and  after  it  the  dull, 
dreary  days  of  January — days  of  mournful  visage  and 
of  weeping  rain,  as  if  nature  and  nature's  God  sympa- 
thized with  sorrowing  man.  Hiding  her  sun  behind 
leaden  clouds,  she  alternately  bestowed  on  the  cheerless 
earth  showers  of  tear-drops  and  of  stinging  sleet, 
while  cold  and  cruel  winds  swept  through  the  leafless 
branches  of  the  oaks,  and  over  the  ever-complaining 
pines,  wailing  and  screaming  like  the  cry  of  despair  in 
the  human  heart.  A  month  fearfully  in  unison  with  the 
condition  of  the  country,  and  possibly  lamenting  the  un- 
timel}''  death  of  the  rollicking /efe  days,  wliich  had  hith- 
erto ushered  it  in.  But  nature,  like  mankind,  cannot  al- 
ways mourn,  and  February  developed  a  brighter  mood, 
showing  how  truly  one  extreme  will  follow  another,  and 
reaction  come  out  of  every  excess.  The  generous,  hope- 
ful sun  rebelled  against  a  longer  exclusion,  and  rending 
the  gloomy  clouds  asunder,  poured  out  his  merry  smiles 
and  life-producing  rays  on  the  despairing  earth.  In 
quick  appreciation  of  these  loving  attentions,  the  early 
buds  and  flowers  came  forth  to  add  their  brightness  to 
the  joyful  renaissance,  and  for  this  southern  clime,  win- 
ter's cruel  despotism  was  over. 

The  middle  of  February,  St.  Valentine's  day,  came  in 
the  midst  of  this  good  spell  of  weather  ;  bright  enough 
for  May,  and  almost  as  warm  ;  a  soft  south  breeze  played 
gently  with  the  swelling  twigs,  and  with  the  early  spring 
flowers,  the  daffodils,  snow-drops,  and  crocuses,  in  Mrs. 
Martin's  yard.  Leaving  these,  it  wandered  around  the 
corner,  and  quietly  stole  up  for  a  whiff  at  the  box  of  violets 
in  the  partly  open  window  of  Wyndship's  old  room.  Then, 
not  presuming  to  enter,  it  tossed  a  part  of  its  burden  of 
fragrance  inside,  and  noiselessly  went  on  its  way  in 
search  of  other  blossoms  and  swelling  buds.  The  room 
itself  was  very  much  the  same  as  when  we  first  entered 
it,  only  the  snow-white  curtains  and  bed-spread  had 
given  place  to  others  of  darker  hue,  and  in  the  open 
fire-place  now  burnt  a  moderate  fire.  In  an  arm-chair, 
placed  on  the  rug  in  such  a  way  as  to  receive  both  the 
fire's  warmth  and  the  odors  from  the  window,  sat,  or 
rather  reclined,  its  old  occupant ;  but  so  pale,  emaciated 


feKT.LEVTEW.  337 

find  liollow-C3^cd,  that  it  requires  a  second  look  to  con- 
vince us  of  his  identity. 

AVyndship's  fight  for  life  had  been  a  hard  one.  For 
weeks  it  had  seemed  to  his  friends  that  one  bullet  had 
been  too  truly  aimed  for  its  murderous  effects  to  be 
overcome  ;  and  even  now,  although  the  doctor  had  pro- 
nounced him  on  the  way  to  convalescence,  it  still  looked 
like  death  had  not  altogether  surrendered  its  hold  on  its 
victim.  Devoted  nursing,  such  as  only  love  can  give, 
had  contested  his  claim  unflinchingl}' ,  and  had  so  far 
won  the  battle,  that  the  rescued  one  was  slowly  regain- 
ing a  little  of  the  old-time  health  and  vigor. 

Dr.  Hurst  and  Mr.  Martin  arrived  at  the  old  church 
about  the  time  that  Colonel  Harris's  efforts  had  brought 
Elma  back  to  consciousness.  On  examination,  Wynd- 
ship  was  found  to  be  still  alive,  and  the  former  decided 
that  there  was  one  chance  in  a  hundred  for  his  recovery. 
A  wagon  was  quickly  obtained,  and  against  Elma's  pro- 
test, he  was  carefully  conveyed  to  Somerville,  to  Mr. 
Martin's  home.  She  wanted  him  taken  to  Belleview, 
and  when  overruled  by  the  two  gentlemen,  she  refused 
to  leave  his  side,  and  shared  the  duties  of  nurse  with 
Mrs.  Martin,  giving  him  just  such  devoted  attentions  as 
the  Doctor  declared,  "  would  almost  raise  the  dead." 
Pale,  but  tearless,  she  hung  around  his  bed  day  and 
night,  seemingly  lost  to  every  other  consideration  but 
that  of  love,  and  deaf  alike  to  the  expostulations  and 
entreaties  of  her  friends  ;  but  on  the  announcement  that 
all  dangerous  symptoms  had  subsided,  and  that  her  lov- 
er's life  was  saved,  there  came  a  sudden  change  in  her. 
Stealing  off  to  a  vacant  room,  she  first  gave  wixy  to  the 
tears  which  had  hitherto  been  suppressed,  only  they 
were  now  tears  of  joy,  and  were  mingled  with  praise  and 
thanksgiving  to  a  merciful  God.  But  the  change  did 
not  stop  here,  and  in  a  few  days,  when  it  became  evident 
that  the  improvement  in  the  patient's  condition  was 
more  than  a  temporary  rally,  she  returned  home  to 
Belleview.  It  seemed  as  if  she,  who  had  been  so  re- 
gardless of  appearances,  who  had  shown  such  utter  in- 
difference to  the  critical  comments  of  others  on  her 
course  in  going  to  his  rescue,  and  in  clinging  to  his  bed- 
side while  recovery  was  doubtful,  had  suddenly  awak- 
ened to  a  most  exaggerated  sense  of  propriety.  It  is 
true    that   she   returned   the   next  day  for  a  short  time, 


338  THE    SURRENDER. 

and  again  in  a  clay  or  two,  but  in  proportion  as  the 
wounded  man  grew  stronger,  her  visits  became  less  fre- 
quent, until  they  had  almost  ceased,  so  Wyndship 
thought ;  for  on  this  St.  Valentine's  day,  it  had  been 
nearly  a  week  since  her  presence  had  relieved  the  dreary 
monotony  of  his  sick  chamber. 

Wyndship  felt  this  deprivation  keenly.  Even  when 
at  his  lowest,  his  faculties  had  never  been  so  dimmed  or 
clouded,  but  what  he  always  knew  her,  and  was  aware 
of  her  presence  by  his  side.  He  could  always  tell  the 
touch  of  her  hand  from  anyone  else's,  and  evinced  the 
greatest  pleasure  in  listening  to  the  sound  of  her  voice. 
In  fact,  love  seemed  to  be  the  loadstone  which  drew  him 
back  to  life,  the  anchor  which  kept  his  shattered  vessel 
off  the  breakers  of  death ;  consequently,  he  missed  her 
cruelly  when  she  went  away,  and  worried  over  the  slowly 
passing  hours  and  days  between  her  visits.  This  ab- 
sence of  several  days  had  been  more  than  he  could  en- 
dure with  equanimity,  and  Mrs.  IMartiu's  watchful  eyes 
had  easily  discovered  his  discontent  and  its  cause. 
Though  thoroughly  a  Southern  woman,  imbued  with 
much  of  the  Southern  prejudices,  still  she  warmly  sym- 
pathized with  her  old-time  protege,  and  disapproved  of 
anything,  or  anybody,  that  gave  him  pain.  She  thought 
that,  under  the  circumstances,  Elma's  suddenly-acquired 
coyness  and  modesty  were  carried  to  an  unnecessary 
length,  and,  actuated  by  pity  for  AVyndship,  a  desire  to 
straighten  matters  between  the  two,  if  anything  was 
amiss,  and,  possibly,  by  a  little  of  the  feminine  love  of 
the  romantic,  she  had  that  morning  improvised  some  ex- 
cuse for  writing  the  former  a  note  requesting  her  to  call, 
making  some  little  matter  a  pretext  for  wanting  to  see 
her.  The  morning  and  part  of  the  afternoon  had  passed 
without  bringing  the  desired  response,  and  it  began  to 
look  as  if  her  little  ruse  had  failed. 

During  the  last  week  the  invalid  had  been  allowed  to 
sit  up  a  little  each  day,  gradually  increasing  the  length 
of  time  as  the  exertion  proved  to  have  no  bad  effect.  He 
had  been  a  very  docile  patient,  submitting  readily  to  the 
authority  of  his  nurses,  and  obediently  returning  to  his 
bed  at  their  command  ;  but  this  day  he  suddenly  became 
rebellious,  and  obstinately  insisted  on  remaining  in  his 
chair,  despite  all  of  Mrs.  Martin's  protests.  The  good 
weather  did  not  have  a  good  effect  on  his  temper,  and, 


BELLEVIEW.  33D 

finding  remonstrances  were  useless,  she  was  forced  to 
let  him  have  his  own  way.  In  truth,  he  was  very  much 
"  out  of  sorts,"  and  felt  recklessly  indifferent  about  his 
own  welfare.  What  did  he  care  for  returning  health,  if 
with  it,  he  lost  Elma  ?  What  was  the  bright  sunshine 
and  soft  south  wind  worth  to  him,  if  he  was  to  be  de- 
prived always  of  her  presence  ?  Death  was  far  prefer- 
able to  any  life  of  which  she  did  not  constitute  the  most 
important  part.  If  she  had  ceased  to  love  him,  what  did 
it  matter  if  he  did  sit  up  too  long — if  he  did  open  his 
wound  afresh?  His  hopes  of  happiness  would  be  dead, 
and  the  sooner  he  followed  them  to  the  grave  the  better. 

Mrs.  Martin  guessed  very  nearl}^  what  was  passing  in 
her  patient's  mind  ;  still,  although  she  pitied  him  greatly, 
she  did  not  tell  him  of  the  note  she  had  sent  by  Carlos. 
Elma  might  not  come,  and  the  consequent  disappoint- 
ment might  be  worse  than  the  present  spell  of  the  blues. 
The  latter  would  wear  off  in  time,  even  if  her  efforts, 
her  pleasant  chat  and  show  of  motherly  sympathy,  were 
having  no  appreciable  effect  just  then.  The  human 
heart,  like  everything  else,  acts  by  reaction,  and  no  one 
condition  is  apt  to  last  always.  She  was  right ;  her 
gentle  influence,  assisted  by  the  fragrance  of  the  violets 
and  of  the  fresh  air,  and  also  possibly  by  his  physical 
exhaustion,  triumphed,  for  the  pale  face  turned  towards 
the  window  partly  lost  its  irritable  expression,  and  soon 
his  weary  ej'es  closed  in  quiet  slumber. 

It  was  fear  of  her  own  heart,  and  not  fear  of  the 
world's  opinion,  that  was  keeping  Elma  away.  She 
cared  very  little  for  the  latter,  but  she  had  learned  from 
experience  that  the  former  could  not  always  be  con- 
trolled. Notwithstanding  all  that  had  passed,  she  had 
not  yet  entirely  surrendered  her  principles  and  her  preju- 
dices. True,  she  had  given  way  more  than  once  to  love, 
as  when  AYyndship  came  so  unexpectedly  to  her  rescue  ; 
again,  on  the  morning  of  their  parting  on  the  porch  at 
Belleview ;  and  again,  more  completely  so,  when  he  was 
in  danger,  and  when  it  seemed  that  death  was  about  to 
separate  them  forever.  But  this,  she  assured  herself, 
was  only  momentary  weakness  in  the  first  two  instances, 
and  in  the  latter,  the  probability  of  his  escaping  death 
was  too  slight  to  necessitate  the  curbing  of  her  heart. 
When  he  commenced  improving,  however,  her  scruples 
revived,  and  knowing  the  strength  of  the  love  she  must 


340  THE    SURRENDER. 

overcome — that  she  was  powerless  to  resist  when  it  was 
aided  and  supported  by  pity  for  his  weakness — she  re- 
turned to  Belleview,  hoping  that  away  from  him  she 
could  regain  control  of  her  heart,  and  school  it  to  resist 
the  appeal  which  she  knew  he  would  make  as  soon  as  he 
was  able  to  follow  her  there. 

To  her  mind,  it  still  appeared  nothing  short  of  sacri- 
lege for  her,  a  daughter  of  the  South,  to  marry  one  of 
its  enemies.  For  four  years,  nearly,  she  had  accustomed 
herself  to  regard  her  country  as  first  in  everything  ;  no 
sacrifice  of  time,  property,  or  personal  inclinations  in  its 
cause  was  considered  too  great — even  life  itself,  if 
necessary,  for  its  success.  Her  strong,  earnest,  ardent 
nature  must  needs  have  some  object,  or  some  principle, 
on  which  to  expend  its  force.  Separated  forever,  as  she 
thought,  from  the  man  she  loved,  early  influences,  the 
teachings  of  her  father,  the  opinions  and  prejudices  of 
those  around  her,  all  tended  to  make  patriotism  that 
principle,  and  the  Southern  Confederacy  that  object. 
True,  they  filled  the  void  only  in  part,  still,  as  far  as 
they  went,  the  dedication  had  been  entire  and  without 
reservation,  and  now,  in  the  darkest  hour  of  that  coun- 
try's trial,  it  looked  like  treachery  of  the  deepest  dye  to 
ally  herself  with  one  who  had  drawn  his  sword  for  its 
supposed  oppression. 

It  must  not  be — no  happiness  could  result  from  such 
an  unholy  alliance.  The  God  of  her  country  would 
frown  on  the  union,  and  sooner  or  later  punish  tliem 
both  for  her  impiety  and  betrayal  of  principle.  She 
must  conquer  her  heart,  suppress  its  longings,  choke 
into  silence  its  pleadings  for  forbidden  fruit,  and,  rising 
above  all  selfish  considerations,  pursue  her  allotted 
course  to  the  end.  With  these  arguments  and  senti- 
ments she  tried  to  satisfy,  or  at  least  hush,  the  voice  of 
love,  and — also  of  conscience  ;  for  despite  such  reasons 
and  such  devotion  to  principles,  the  latter  was  not  alto- 
gether quiet.  ''But  you  are  also  sacrificing  another's 
happiness,"  the  secret  mentor  would  say.  "How  do 
you  know  that  you  are  right,  or  that  the  South  is  not  in 
the  wrong ;  and  even  if  it  is  not,  what  right  have  you  to 
punish  him  for  the  North's  misdoings  ?  He  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  bringing  on  of  this  war,  and  only  went 
into  it,  careless  of  life,  under  a  false  conception  that 
you  were  heartless  and  untrue.     He  does  not  hate  your 


BELLEVIEW.  341 

country,  but  is  ready  to  love  it,  and  after  this  war  is 
over,  to  serve  it  for  your  sake.  What  sacrilege  can 
there  be  in  marrying  the  man  you  love,  and  who  loves 
you,  and  whose  truth  and  nobleness  you  have  never 
had  any  reason  to  doubt  ?  "  These  promptings  were  not 
loud  enough  to  drown  the  teachings  of  prejudices  and 
supposed  duty,  and  only  added  to  her  unhappiness. 
Through  sleepless  nights  as  well  as  during  the  heartless 
day,  the  struggle  between  prejudice  and  love,  between 
principle  and  passion,  went  on,  its  very  fierceness 
proving  the  prudence  of  staying  away  from  her  lover's 
side  ;  for  she  well  knew  that  one  touch  of  his  emaciated 
hand,  one  whisper  of  his  broken  voice,  would  test  the 
strength  of  the  fortifications  she  was  trying  to  build 
around  her  heart.  And  then,  too,  she  was  troubled  by 
a  continual  fear  that  the  danger  of  death  for  him  was 
not  yet  passed,  and  she  knew  not  what  day  or  hour  some 
caller  or  passer-by  might  not  bring  the  dreaded  news  of 
a  relapse.  Even  the  Doctor's  assurance  that  he  was 
progressing  finely,  and  would  soon  be  on  his  feet,  was 
not  conclusive,  and  did  not  quiet  her  morbid  apprehen- 
sion. If  this  fear  should  prove  to  be  well  founded,  she 
could  never  forgive  herself  for  leaving  him  ;  utterly  un- 
conscious of  the  inconsistency  in  resolving  that  if  he 
lived  they  must  still  be  dead  to  each  other. 

When  she  received  Mrs.  Martin's  note  that  morning, 
requesting  both  herself  and  Mollie  to  come,  she  at  first 
decided  to  remain  at  home  herself,  but  to  persuade  the 
latter  to  go.  Through  her.  she  could  hear  directl}^  from 
him  ;  how  he  looked,  how  he  was  getting  on,  and  if  he 
seemed  happy  and  in  good  spirits  ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  save  her  own  heart  from  a  painful  trial.  But 
Mollie  could  not  go  in  the  morning,  and,  as  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin cunningly  refrained  from  giving  any  information 
about  the  invalid  in  the  note,  and  the  Doctor  failed  to 
call  by  as  had  been  almost  his  daily  habit,  by  the  after- 
noon, staying  away  any  longer  became  the  more  painful 
trial  of  the  two.  A  whole  troop  of  imaginary  fears  that 
he  was  not  doing  well,  that  his  wound  had  been  too  se- 
vere, his  system  too  much  broken  down,  for  him  ever  to 
recover ;  that  the  Doctor  had  been  deceiving  her,  or  was 
deceived  himself ;  that  Mrs.  Martin  also  was  suppress- 
ing the  truth ;  and  a  host  of  other  unreasonable  conjec- 
tures arose  to  induce  her  to  respond  to  the  call.     Were 


342  THE    SURRENDER. 

they  fears,  or  only  excuses  that  her  heart  was  inventing 
to  quiet  conscience  ?  At  any  rate,  Mrs.  Martin,  after 
satisfying  herself  that  Wyndship  was  asleep,  had  hardly 
reached  the  front  porch  for  a  few  moments'  inspection 
of  her  early  flowers,  when  both  girls  alighted  at  the  gate. 

It  was  Mollie  who  inquired  after  the  invalid,  and  who 
listened  with  interest  to  the  reply  ;  in  fact,  to  a  casual 
observer,  Elma  seemed  entirely  indifferent  to  the  sub- 
ject. She  did  not  even  take  a  seat  after  removing  their 
hats  and  gloves  in  the  sitting-room,  but  going  to  the 
window,  she  stood  with  her  back  to  the  other,  looking  out 
into  the  yard.  The  jonquils  and  snow-drops  outside  had 
become  objects  of  greater  interest  than  anything  else, 
from  the  absorbed  and  persistent  attention  with  which 
she  regarded  them.  Mrs.  Martin  watched  her  closely, 
as  she  went  on  to  tell  her  other  guest  of  Wyndship's  ex- 
treme low  spirits,  and  utter  indifference  to  his  own  wel- 
fare, purposely  making  the  recital  as  pitiful  as  she 
could  ;  still  the  impassive  figure  at  the  window  appeared 
deaf,  and  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  there  was  a  sick 
man  in  the  house.  With  something  very  like  a  sigh,  the 
good  lady  turned  the  drift  of  conversation  into  other 
channels — she  was  both  puzzled  and  annoyed  by  Elma's 
manner,  but  had  the  good  sense  to  know  that  interfer- 
ence just  then  could  do  no  good. 

Elma  was  dressed  with  extreme  simplicity,  in  a  home- 
spun dress,  relieved  only  at  the  throat  by  a  knot  of  scar- 
let ribbon,  which  had  been  dyed  to  its  present  color  by 
herself.  The  hat  and  gloves  she  had  laid  on  the  table 
were  also  homemade;  in  fact,  she  wore  the  "female 
rebel  uniform"  complete,  as  if  she  intended  these  tokens 
of  fidelity  to  the  Southern  cause  as  a  guard  to  protect 
her  from  the  danger  of  inconstancy — as  a  reminder  to 
love,  that  she  had  dedicated  her  heart  and  happiness  to 
her  country  ;  and  that  henceforth  all  claims  that  he  had 
on  her  would  be  ignored.  She  stood  at  the  window  sev- 
eral minutes,  and  then  suddenly  turning,  caught  up  a 
little  bunch  of  hot-house  flowers  she  had  laid  by  her  hat, 
and  passed  out  into  the  hall.  She  had  not  been  so  in- 
different as  she  appeared,  and  had  heard  Mrs.  Martin 
say  that  he  was  asleep  and  alone.  Now  was  her  time. 
She  could  steal  into  his  room,  satisfy  her  longing  to  see 
him,  and  then  come  away  without  his  knowledge.  There 
would  be  no  necessity  of  telling  him  then  to  his  face 


BELLEVIEW.  343 

what  she  felt  "wonld  cause  him  almost  as  much  pain  to 
hear,  as  it  would  her  to  say.  There  would  be  do  ne- 
cessity for  self-control,  for  crushing  down  her  heart,  for 
choking  back  the  aspirations  of  love — there  would  be  no 
necessity  for  veiling  her  eyes  and  freezing  her  face.  She 
could  steal  up  close  to  him,  see  for  herself  how  he 
looked,  whether  he  was  improving ;  could  look  at  him  as 
tenderly,  as  pityingly,  as  lovingly,  as  she  desired,  for  a 
few  blissful  moments,  and  place  the  flowers  close  to  his 
hand  to  tell  him  afterwards  that  she  had  been  there. 
She  would  do  all  this  now,  and  some  time  in  the  near 
future,  when  he  had  grown  stronger  and  better  able  to 
bear  it,  she  would  write  him  the  determination  to  which 
she  had  come. 

With  her  heart  beating  a  wild  tattoo  of  bliss  and 
pain,  she  softly  turned  the  bolt,  went  in,  closed  it  as 
gently  behind  her,  and  took  one  step  towards  his  chair. 
Then  she  stopped,  as  if  frightened  ;  for  stirred  by  some 
magnetic  impulse,  tlie  invalid's  head  turned  on  the  pil- 
low, his  eyes  opened,  and  a  glad  smile  broke  over  his 
haggard  features. 

"  Oh,  my  darling !  have  j^ou  come  at  last?" 

There  was  no  resisting  this  appeal ;  neither  could  she 
instantly  ''  veil  her  eyes,  and  freeze  her  face."  She 
went  forward,  and  their  hands  were  clasped,  he  holding 
hers  fast,  while  she  sank  into  the  vacant  chair  by  his 
side.  Then  both  were  silent  for  a  little  while  ;  he  too 
happy  for  words,  and  she  in  a  whirl  of  contending  emo- 
tions, that  rendered  her  incapable  of  connected  thought. 
He  first  found  his  tongue,  and  commenced  telling  her  of 
his  joy  in  having  her  by  him  again,  and  how  badly  he 
had  missed  her  presence.  In  silence  she  listened,  slowly 
realizing  the  task  that  duty  had  so  sudcjenly  placed  be- 
fore her,  and  her  heart  growing  sick  and  cold  as  she  re- 
membered. 

"  Why  have  j'ou  stayed  away  so  long?  "  he  asked,  at 
length. 

She  did  not  reply,  but  gently  disengaged  one  hand 
from  his  clasp. 

"  Why  have  3'ou  sta3'ed  away  so  long?"  he  repeated. 
*' Don't  3^ou  know  it  was  cruel?" 

"I  thought  it — it  was  best,"  she  answered,  falter- 
ingly,  attempting  to  withdraw  the  other  hand. 

''Why?" 


344  THE   SURREKDEit. 

Again  she  was  silent ;  heart  and  courage  were  not  yet 
sufficiently  braced  for  the  ordeal.  Misunderstanding  the 
silence,  and  jumping  to  a  conclusion  of  his  own,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  Surely,  people  are  not  so  unkind,  so  ungenerous,  as 
to  condemn  or  criticise  you  for  that  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  it  is  not  that — I  would  not  care  for  them  if 
they  did." 

*' What  is  it,  then?" 

"  Oh,  why  does  he  persist  in  asking  this  question?" 
she  moaned  to  herself.  "  Why  can't  he  let  us  have  a 
few  moments'  happiness  now  ? — there  can  never  be  any 
hereafter."  This  was  a  bitter  task  that  had  been  so 
unexpectedly  forced  upon  her,  and  her  heai*t  revolted 
against  the  urgings  of  supposed  duty.  Oh,  for  a  re- 
spite, a  delay,  if  only  for  a  few  minutes.  The  tempta- 
tion to  give  some  excuse,  some  other*  reason  than  the 
true  one,  was  strong ;  but  this  would  not  be  right.  It 
would  be  cowardly,  and  would  be  deceiving  him,  en- 
couraging false  hopes,  and  in  the  end,  bring  a  greater 
disappointment.  She  had  intended  this  explanation  to 
come  later,  but  fate  had  willed  it  otherwise  ;  and  no  mat- 
ter how  much  pain  it  cost  her,  she  must  not  be  false  to 
duty. 

' '  Why  is  it  best  that  you  stay  away  ?  "  he  repeated 
sharply,  as  if  he  had  a  suspicion  of  the  truth. 

Notwithstanding  the  fire  and  warm  weather,  she 
shivered  from  head  to  foot,  like  one  taking  an  icy  bath. 

"Because  —  because  — "  but  she  had  to  stop  and 
swallow  something  before  she  could  proceed.  "  Because 
it  would  only  give  us  greater  pain  hereafter.  We  must 
learn  to  do  without  each  other — to  reconcile  our  hearts 
to  the — the  inevitable.     We  must " 

"  Why  must  we  learn  to  do  without  each  other?  " 

''Because  it — it  is  fate." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  cried.  "How  can  we  do 
without  each  other — or  rather,  how  can  I  do  without 
you?" 

"You  will  learn — you  will  learn  to  forget  me,  and — 
and  will  find  happiness  elsewhere." 

"  I  cannot — it  is  impossible.  It  is  folly  to  talk  that 
way." 

"  This  will  not  last  always — you  will  get  over  it  in 
time — will  find  happiness,  and— and  some  one  to  love 


BELLEVIEW.  345 

you  more  worthy  than  I."  The  thought  that  this  might 
indeed  be  true,  and  that  in  time  some  other  woman  might 
fill  her  place  in  his  affection,  did  not  make  it  any  easier 
to  say.  As  for  herself,  she  felt  that  there  would  never 
be  such  a  recompense  for  her  sacrifice — that  this  love 
would  last  as  long  as  life  ;  and  that  she  was  relinquish- 
ing her  last  hope  of  earthly  happiness. 

"This  is  all  foolishness — you  mustn't  talk  in  that 
way,"  he  said,  trying  to  steady  his  voice,  and  pitifully 
endeavoring  to  ignore  her  earnestness.  "  You  do  not 
mean  it,  I  know,  and — are  only  trying  me — trying  me  to 
see  how  much  patience  I  possess." 

"  I  do — I  must — I  cannot  help  it — there  is  nothing 
else  to  do.  It  is  not  because  I  do  not  love  you — you 
know  that.  It  is  hard — harder  for  me  than  for  you ; 
but,  oh !  there  is  such  a  gulf  between  us — a  gulf  filled 
with  war,  with  blood,  and  sin,  and  murder." 

"  This  is  folly,  I  tell  you— the  height  of  folly.  You 
are  placing  too  much  importance  on  what  neither  you  nor 
I  caused,  or  could  prevent." 

"  Still  it  is  there,  yawning  between  us,"  she  persisted, 
with  a  shudder. 

"  But  we  will  bridge  it — our  love  is  strong  enough, 
great  enough,  to  bridge  it,  were  it  as  wide  as  the  ocean." 

She  shook  her  head  mournfully. 

"Why  should  we  care  for  this  trouble  between  the 
North  and  South?  Why  should  we  let  this  senseless, 
inhuman,  and  unnecessary  war  come  between  us — why 
make  it  a  personal  matter  ?  We  love  each  other — is  that 
not  enough  ?  At  least  my  love  is  too  strong  to  permit 
civil  strife  to  separate  us — but  maybe  yours  is  different 
— maybe  your  love  for  your  Southern  Confederacy  is 
stronger  than  for  me." 

The  last  words  hurt  her  keenly,  but  she  did  not  re- 
tort. In  fact,  words  of  any  kind  were  difficult  just 
then.  All  the  exalted  thoughts  and  arguments  about 
patriotism  and  devotion  to  cause  and  country ;  all  the 
self-sacrificing  appeals  to  duty ;  all  the  unselfish  reasons 
founded  on  considerations  for  his  good,  and  his  future  ; 
of  not  being  an  obstacle  to  his  advancement  and  pros- 
perity, scattered  like  drj'-  leaves  before  a  hurricane,  and 
she  was  left  with  only  a  consciousness  that  duty  required 
her  to  remain  firm.  So  she  only  gripped  her  hands 
tighter,  and  shivered. 


S46  THE   SURREKDfifi. 


(( 


CorKe,  he  resumed  in  his  gentlest  tone,  "  j^ou  must 
quit  worrying  about  this  war,  and  such  matters — quit 
thinking  about  that  imaginary  gulf  between  us  ;  but  in- 
stead, just  consider  how  happy  we  will  be  in  the  future, 
when  I  get  well  and  strong,  and  win  that  fame  and  for- 
tune I  intend  to  gain  for  your  sake.  Let  war  and  poli- 
tics go  on  their  way  ;  there  is  love  and  peace  and  happi- 
ness in  store  for  us." 

"If  it  could  only  be,"  she  murmured. 

"  It  can — it  will  be,  if  we  will  only  have  it  so.  What 
is  there  to  prevent?  We  have  love  and  faith  in  each 
other,  and  what  more  do  we  want  ?  Give  up  these  fool- 
ish ideas — these  quixotic  notions  about  patriotism  and 
duty,  and  let  us  be  happy." 

"Oh,  no,"  she  cried,  despairingly.  "It  is  fate,  and 
we  must  submit." 

"  It  is  fate,  only  because  you  will  it  so." 

"  I  will  it  so?  "  She  turned  her  face  towards  him  for 
the  first  time,  and  there  was  an  accent  of  indignation  in 
the  question. 

"  Well,  you  imagine  it  is  so." 

"Imagine?  Is  this  war  all  imagination?  Are  all 
those  bloody  battles  that  have  been  fought  only  imagi- 
nation ?  Is  the  presence  of  your  Northern  armies  in  our 
ruined  and  suffering  country  nothing  but  a  hideous 
nightmare  of  the  fancy  ?  I  would  to  God  it  were  only 
imagination  !  " 

' '  Then  you  can  never  forgive  me  for  being  a  Union 
soldier?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive  you.  You  are  a  Federal 
soldier  because  you  believe  the  North  is  right,  and  the 
South  wrong — you  have  simply  been  true  to  j^our  prin- 
ciples, and — and  faithful  to  the  duty  your  conscience 
pointed  out.  Have  I  ever  blamed  you  for  that?  Not  for  the 
world,  nor  for  an  eternity  of  happiness,  would  I  have 
you  prove  false  to  the  cause  in  which  you  believe.  It  is 
not  that.  Don't  you  see  that  Providence  has  placed  a 
wall  between  us — that  God,  in  His  infinite  wisdom,  dis- 
approves of  our  love  ?  " 

Had  he  been  well  and  strong,  his  nerves  in  their  nor- 
mal condition,  he  would  have  persevered  with  arguments 
and  persuasions  in  endeavoring  to  show  her  the  falsity 
of  her  position  ;  but  he  was  weak  and  irritable,  his  sys- 
tem depressed,  and  not  equal  for  a  contest  of  that  kind. 


Keither  could  he  patiently  lose  the   happiness  which  he 
had  confidently  thought  his  own  so  short  a  -while  before. 

''  Do  you  mean,  that  after  all  that  has  passed  between 
us,  we  must  now  separate  forever?"  he  asked,  in  a 
changed  tone. 

The  excitement  which  had  stimulated  her  last  two 
speeches  instantly  subsided,  and  she  silently  turned 
again  to  the  fire,  shivering  and  twisting  her  hands  to- 
gether. 

"  Tell  me — "  his  voice  was  louder,  and  was  broken 
with  anger  and  despair.  ''  Tell  me — is  that  what  you 
mean  ?  " 

*'It  is  inevitable." 

He  just  caught  the  half-whispered  words,  and  did  not 
see  the  pale,  quivering  lips  that  uttered  them,  or  else, 
possibly,  he  might  have  been  more  patient. 

*'  Then  I  wish  I  had  died." 

She  shivered  now  like  one  with  an  ague,  but  did  not 
look  around — in  fact,  drew  farther  from  him,  and  nearer 
the  fire. 

*'  Why  did  you  not  let  me  die?  Even  such  a  shame- 
ful death  as  that — as  a  spy  and  a  murderer — was  in- 
finitely better  than  the  life  to  which  you  have  brought 
me  back." 

Still  closer  to  the  fire  she  leaned,  the  tears  falling  on 
her  clenched  hands,  while  her  lips  moved  in  silent 
prayer. 

"  It  would  have  been  better — kinder  to  me,  to  let  the 
scouts  finish  their  job,  than  to  save  my  life  that  you 
might  inflict  a  far  more  cruel  and  deadly  wound.  I  do 
not  want — I  detest — I  loathe  the  life  which  you  have 
preserved." 

He  fell  back  on  his  pillow  with  his  face  towards  the 
window,  panting  for  breath.  After  a  little,  she  arose  to 
her  feet,  glanced  appealingly  toward  him  first,  and  then 
staggered  to  the  door.  Here  she  stopped,  and  again 
looked  back  ;  but  he  had  not  moved,  or  seemed  to  notice 
her  leaving.  Beyond  him  was  the  open  window,  with 
the  box  of  fragrant  violets ;  and,  still  beyond,  the 
happy,  golden  sunshine.  In  parting  with  him,  she  was 
bidding  farewell  to  all  blessedness  ;  to  all  hopes  of  fu- 
ture felicity ;  to  all  the  brightness  of  life.  Past  the 
door,  and  she  entered  upon  the  dark  and  forbidding  path 
of  duty,  that  would  lead  to  no  earthly  reward.     Here 


348  THE    SURRENDER. 

was  bliss,  and  joy,  and  love;  outside  was  wretchedness, 
and  a  despair  so  dark  that  no  consciousness  of  duty  per- 
formed could  possibly  dispell  the  gloom.  One  step 
more,  and  she  would  be  past  the  gates  of  Paradise,  and 
that  same  stern  angel  who  was  urging  her  forward  would 
forever  bar  her  entrance  again.  One  last  look,  and  she 
must  go. 

AYhile  hesitating,  her  eyes  fell  on  the  crushed  and 
broken  flowers  in  her  hand.  She  had  intended  them  for 
him,  and  why  not  yet  leave  them  to  reassure  him,  if  they 
could,  that  it  was  not  the  want  of  love  on  her  part  which 
had  caused  the  wall  between  them.  Crushed  and  broken, 
and  glistening  with  the  moisture  of  her  tears,  they  would 
be  a  fit  emblem  of  her  own  heart,  and  would  plead  with 
him — as  she  could  not  do — against  resentment  and  injus- 
tice when  she  was  gone.  She  turned  towards  the  table 
which  stood  by  the  window  across  the  room,  and  had  got 
half  way  there  when  she  stopped  and  looked  piteously  at 
him  again.  One  pale,  thin  hand  shaded  the  averted 
eyes ;  and  his  attitude,  his  entire  person,  spoke  of  utter 
dejection  and  hopelessness.  The  picture  cut  her  to  the 
heart,  almost  bringing  a  cry  of  pain  from  her  trembling 
lips.  She  was  not  the  only  one  that  was  suffering — that 
was  losing  all.  As  she  could  not  take  happiness  witli 
her,  so  she  could  not  leave  it  behind.  As  far  as  they 
were  concerned,  it  was  constituted  in  a  dual  life — one 
half  attached  to  her,  and  one  half  to  him — and  neither 
was  capable  of  an  independent  existence.  She  was 
leaving  no  radiant  sunshine — no  fragrant  violets  of  hap- 
piness behind  for  him — his  present  and  future,  possibly, 
were  as  dark  and  forbidding  as  hers.  She  was  ready  and 
willing  to  sacrifice  her  own  heart  on  the  altar  of  duty ; 
but  his — oh !  how  about  his  ?  Could  she  perform  this 
double  task  ?  Could  she  strike  the  blow  that  would  de- 
stroy both  ?  For  a  moment  or  two  she  stood  irresolute  ; 
her  mouth  twitching ;  her  eyes  changing  from  dull  to 
bright,  and  from  bright  to  dull  ;  her  form  swaying  back 
and  forth  like  a  slender  plant  in  the  breeze  ;  then  a  cry 
broke  from  her  lips,  and,  the  next  instant,  she  was 
kneeling  by  his  side,  her  hands  clinging  tightly  to  his 
arm. 

"  I  cannot — "  she  sobbed  !  "I  cannot  do  it — I  can- 
not give  you  up  !  I  will  give  up  everything — yes,  every- 
thing, but  you — but  you — you  I  cannot !     I  thought  it 


teELLEVlEW.  34^ 

was  right — I  thouoht  it  was  duty,  but — oh  !  I  cannot !  " 
Long  before  her  broken  words  Avere  finislied,  he  had 
turned  with  sudden  strength  in  his  chair.  His  arm  was 
torn  from  her  clasp  that  it  might  pass  around  her  waist, 
and — well,  the  war  was  over — love  had  conquered. 


THE   END. 


^ARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THEUBRARYOFTHE 
^^NlVERSITVOf^ 
^OKTH  CAROLINA 
AT 
CHAPEL  HILL 


Kilmer 
325 


